“Who knows the heart of another’s heart?
Our lives are the length of a struck match,
And our days are sure to end in a dark confusion.” ~ Charles Wright, from “Buffalo Yoga”
Reblogged from Other-wordly and A Poet Reflects:
Music by Justin Vernon and Aaron Dessner, “Big Red Machine”
The leaves fall from my fingers
Cornflowers scattered across the field like stars,
like smoke stars,
By the train tracks, the leaves in a drift
Under the slow clouds
and the nine steps to heaven,
The light falling in great sheets through the trees,
Sheets almost tangible.
The transfiguration will start like this, I think,
Quick blade through the trees,
Something with red colors falling away from my hands,
The air beginning to go cold …
And when it does
I’ll rise from this tired body, a blood-knot of light,
Ready to take the darkness in.
—Or for the wind to come
And carry me, bone by bone, through the sky,
Its wafer a burn on my tongue,
its wine deep forgetfulness.
~ Charles Wright