Wednesday, January 03, 2007

Come now, let us reason it together Soul

We must be frank,
for the days are short -
It being winter.

It being the climate.
It being the mustard sandwich
we wave when bereft at lunch
of the thing itself -

whatever we happen to be speaking of.

Soul? Are you my gesture's pith or sandwich?
That's not the question I brought you here to ask,
but it seems pertinent.

It seems like it will fit.
It always fits.
It was made to.

I'm asking: there's you, and there's your flesh -
in English, two extremities, and two hearts, composite
acting as the thing we wave
when we speak of you.

My lips, bread.
My tongue, processing meat -

I am waving myself out over the dark lake.
I am conversing of you.
With whom?
With whom?

dedicated to the Hofer

1 comment:

Shaun Howington said...

So, this poem and your other recent poems conjured this question out of me: can and ought I to know my own soul? If the answer is yes to either of these, in my experience and in my understanding of Scripture it can only be discovered through forgetting myself in caring for another. I think it a strange mystery that in denying myself in order to love others, I discover myself. Don't ask me if this is ontological and/or epistemological, but I have a sneaky feeling that it's Christological.

Long time no see! Thanks for the poems, and for heaven's sake, check bubbs:)