Keith Wilson has made his transition and now has returned to that life between lives, a shining cell in God's cornea. Joy Harjo posted this poem on her blog site today.
Glenn
Thantog: Songs of a Jaguar Priest
by Keith Wilson
PREFACE
Into these restless days enter one precious
deeply felt
knowing always the impotence
hours bring, the sadness, coming just after
light, moments, the touch of wind, the chill
O, I have dreamed the thousand dreams, known
softly the nights turn walking into victories
shared only by the moon
I wish somehow I could tell you or tell myself
O darling of the light, mistress of the night,
words hold mockery and high villainies: a word.
Love. A meaning, "I want you," in most languages,
the same. In English we discriminate, knowing
the subtleties of longing better with colder blood:
it is possible to love and not want, to drive
our bones with skeletal needs, biting our own tendons
loose to at last walk free.
Keith Wilson
A poem of great insight, compassion and finally realization. I loved Keith because he was a poet and a believer that in form it was/is important to bear witness to our lives, to the struggle to give and take meaning, for else what would be left of us as a civilization but some rusty metal trinkets? It is through poetry that the human soul endures, many practice the art, a few like Kieth succeed.
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