"Now You See It, Now You Don't: Threads of Sinai" - Garrett Johnson
Heard a call and could not decipher
its origin, and was instead distracted
by the way the air gleamed
when the heart center reverberated,
the heart center, inside-
the environment seeming to tower over me again
the way it did in my first years,
though this time I was not afraid.
Is this the revelation you speak of
or is it what you spoke against,
wringing your hands
at the praise of the seen?
Or did I not praise all of this out here,
and was it, yet, not totally behind the eyes,
was it a holy presence, referee between the
arguing membranes- was it exactly what the doctor ordered?
They say the moment,
the ancient turning point, was little more
than the indwelling of silence-
that it was the apprehension, that moment right before
a sound comes issuing forth.
And that's why they want to keep it remembered.
I still doubt that what I craft is a strand
that can be attached to this long line
that references itself- I just know
that there is a command to let this be crafted.
To live simply for the purpose of living-
to let in what is implied in this-
for the apple was eaten
and now we must thread all of this together.
We did not have to see the sights-
but we did anyway, and maybe that suffices,
and maybe I can see now how what I did was not in vain
though it was called by me as "not me,"
though I still tense up, though I still draw a blank.
Now I know that I can still feel commanded
and then see more than I had before
once I act upon a command.
And then it can seem like a mistake,
and yet- I know that I tried.
Art: "Mostly space," by Ben Gulyas