Consciousness, Literature and the Arts

Archive

Volume 6 Number 2, August 2005

Special Issue: Literary Universals

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Storm

by

Gilbert Wesley Purdy

 

                   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.