Art, Music, Poetry 3

Opus 1916,  Studio, Gwangju

Opus 1917, 2012

Gwangju, 30 x 30 inches

Now or Never

A turtle flies through the universe.
We ride on the back of the turtle.
The Undergods dwell in Canandaigua,

The Overgods look down from clouds.
Even if we’re 300 moons away from
When this mattered, most of our lives

Are touched by one holy inspiration: nature.
Cosmic coincidence should not amaze here.
You are in the middle of the new awareness.

Black rocks spin and dive in deep water.
A four-year-old runs then swims.
Relaxed willow provides humid shelter.

You peek under the giant grass skirt
And see four tangled feet. You don’t peek further.
Gray locusts send twirling twigs to hair.

You swim out to a cooler spot of deep water.
The white snake, awake again,
Leaves Bare Hill, not reeking havoc

But cutting new creeks to hike along,
Full of crawdads and water spiders.
You retrace ancient steps. You sneak

Through the old neighborhood, now trespassing.
Four tangled feet, a few skipping stones
And the spirit within you:

Now awareness reigns. Corn presents
A raw treat for passing minstrels. Nothing
Talked about or noticed matters.

A turtle flies through the universe.
We ride on the back of the turtle.
The Undergods dwell in Canandaigua,

The Overgods look down from clouds.
Even if we’re 300 moons away from
When this mattered, most of our lives

Are touched by one holy inspiration: nature.
Cosmic coincidence should not amaze here.
You are in the middle of the new awareness.

Black rocks spin and dive in deep water.
A four-year-old runs then swims.
Relaxed willow provides humid shelter.

You peek under the giant grass skirt
And see four tangled feet. You don’t peek further.
Gray locusts send twirling twigs to hair.

You swim out to a cooler spot of deep water.
The white snake, awake again,
Leaves Bare Hill, not reeking havoc

But cutting new creeks to hike along,
Full of crawdads and water spiders.
You retrace ancient steps. You sneak

Through the old neighborhood, now trespassing.
Four tangled feet, a few skipping stones
And the spirit within you:

Now awareness reigns. Corn presents
A raw treat for passing minstrels. Nothing
Talked about or noticed matters.

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