Wednesday, September 14, 2016

Rodak's Writings: a Poem

The Way the Music Died

I’m pretty sure
the fragment of mind
embedded in this
particular clot of mud
is near disintegration.

I have not learned much
about the Ground of Being,
obsessed as I’ve been
about being in the ground,
probing the receptive mud
for groans and giggles.

There was issue from these strivings
and all was well until those I got
commanded me stop whistling along
with the chiming of the spheres.

Finally, then, the white noise reigned:
the lovely music guttered out
and died between my ears.