D U S T
sooner or later you will ask
millions of square miles of it - a hundred
rippling oceans, each ripple a dull gleam of G R A Y
drab... the non-colours shimmering
Vast seas
of dust with dark islands bearing
great corpse trees, which are gray again...
and there, somewhere in the direction he walkswill be the fox,
the implacable fox
the fox that knows he is COMING
wait for me on the shore of that
time, enter with me the shared silence, for I
cannot abide the harshness of car horns or
dead dogs hanging from beams, I will not wear
shadows in my eyes or masks, help
me enter that place where we go, knowing
it waits for us, waits with words
a sparrow-hawk glides overhead
looking for homeI have wasted my life
in endless
figure-eights
8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888
a vacuum waiting to be
unsealed
dust of the ages rising and spellingout the same
story, a thousand years later, he digs them up –
the green metallic S H A R D S, leftovers of trees
straightening pictures on the
walls of strange rooms, time
is a matter of no concern
at all
all the mislaid faces
the world emptied
the world upon whose hide
he walks under a philistine sun the
colour of rain & dust - only
living because it is a habit as the wind
moves restlessly, telling its tale to no one
the words at the end of theworld are
the words the man breathes
the one
he cannot tell the one
his words
about one human heart about
the W O R D S at the end of the
world
Gather
©__________________________________________________________________
Adding your comment:
Reminds me a bit of Gary Snyder - very spiritual to me. 
i think not. text presentation as well is brilliant
..this is such an interesting write, to be read a few times.