2026-07-10

Maybe part of a Once and Future Sun

The heat waits. Stifling. Not even a dawn breeze. The only recompense the sight of stars. Their immensity as baffling now, as it was the first time he looked up into the heavens.

He feels the rustle of the desert, its settling as it readies for another day. His legs ache and he thinks of the ochres and reds, the way the hills of sandy rock merge into each other.

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Swept up in past lives Our present vanishes Lost in seasaw of reflection Of wandering wondering That leads nowhere but mirrors

Here and now are forgotten In a bustle of tomorrows That light fools the way To dusty death

But this is no brief candle This is an endless future made of the wheels turning By a hungry, anxious mind

Fed on scraps of yearning And remembrance It is half won and woven From an ever forgetting

Ay, but in that forgetfulness There's the rub For in those moments, there is a shing A lighthouse through the fog

Calling us home to a Bitter-sweet nostalgia A train carriage in the falling twilight A father's face turned towards the sun

Are these scraps, these fragrant fragments The vestige of a life? No, NO! This is the recompense of fools.

If we turn off, or turn away The flickering lamp, we see suddenly The true nature of a now The beauty of descent into an eternal present.

That something still and great Lies beneath the surface of these lives Something not mine or yours But hewn from the very stone of being

Let me come to that Let me touch it again Let me become it And so vanish with the world.