Time Is A Deep River

Time is a deep river beyond our fragile rafts

That keeps us afloat as we watch the distant

Shore thinking that soon we will be there

Time is a deep river invisible to us and our prayers

To an unseen essence we call spirit that binds the

Universe together into a mystery of which we

Are mere players and also the slayer of dragons

But sometimes the dragons devour us and we suffer

Not knowing that if we but laugh at the demons they

Will mourn and melt before human courage which

They can neither slay nor destroy nor bless nor love

There is a place that does not exist that is the only

Place there is—the river flows into mystery taking

With it our rafts, our joys, our suffering, our angels

And our blessed demons into the depths of a river

That has flowed deep and wide for countless suns

And moons since the angels touched earth with the

Spark of life on which we float our fragile rafts and

All the forgotten generations of creatures before us

Comments

Pick Up Truck

Decades ago riding, in the back of a pick-up truck, My good buddy Rick and I were talking philosophy, Truth and Counter-truth I told him—waddya mean? Life is both real and an illusion--particle-wave duality We are flesh and we are spirit—50 years later, my flesh Has lower back pain and sciatica but the spirit still loves Riding in the back of pick-up trucks—which is now illegal

Kyiv—Ancient city on the Dnieper. These river waters have flowed for more centuries then are counted in history books And will continue to flow after all the puppets have turned to dust and new trees have grown in groves by the Dnieper. Were these banks once paradise, before our ancient ones built a village here? Did an ancient shaman have visions of what would happen here? The dance of the puppets pulled by the strings of history. Warriors and chieftains, then kings and lords, tyrants and Czars, Nazis and Soviets all acting out their puppet dramas— Their strings pulled by the dark lords of power and lust, greed and fear and anger. How many times can a city of people be a battle ground? Kyiv—in the 1920’s, the Bolsheviks imposed the collectives. The collectives failed. Thousands died of hunger. Hitler’s storm troopers made Kyiv a nightmare where thousands were sent

Blue Dog

Blue Dog, Bark at the rabbits and Chase the squirrels back to the nest. Darkness awaits us just behind twilight. The owls and coyotes will watch us With eyes that see in the night.

CurranPoem

Search This Blog