Consciousness, Literature and the Arts
Archive
Volume 6 Number 2, August 2005
Special Issue: Literary Universals
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by
The
rising wind would scatter me tonight,
among
the dance of atoms through this world,
a
passion slowly unpersonified,
a
lightning streaking cloud to cloud, purled
on
lowering cumulus, on passersby,
on
landscapes ghostlier than ruins astray
in
time. Each image deconstructs a
mind
constructed
of illusion, a dark array
no
more aware than arcs of light across
the
storm-tormented clouds, as if so many
ions
somehow added up to “I”:
neither
gratified by gain, nor sad for loss,
they
give these eyes, this unimagining,
the
sudden flash of this across your sky.