Image borrowed from BingThe Birth of Time
Results run backward gathering in force until they end up
in some sort of cavern miraculously well lit
& everyone there feels surprise & wonder.
They are more like phantoms than like little men:
a symptom of the way they cough & breathe.*
From the depths the girl at center rises,
edges toward the stooping man & calls him father.+
She is a distant runner, trained to smash against the wind
& carry on until some place draws nigh –
where the whole point of speed is relaxation.#
It fits & lessens our predicament,
although no final strategy permits it.
Even so.
My hand in yours allows a sleep in which each dream
is like a hole in paradise.^
The more you fall through it**
the more it takes you to the birth of time.++
* bob & weave........+ [maybe the stupid man is what you meant.]
# execution..... ^ a holy paradigm. .....** stall in it .....++ of rhyme
Jerome Rothenberg
A series of new poems with footnoted variant readings, scheduled for publication as a Big Bridge Press E-Book with drawings by Nancy Victoria Davis.
Posted over on his site Poems & Poetics
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