11 | Antakharana

The web, the link,

the blink, the wink.


Yarn that wends through labyrinths;

thin threads that may mend every hole.


Numberless invisible nadis, physical

nerve endings in every foot and hand.


Railroads, highways, natural riverways;

backs and spines of mountainous ranges.


Languages written in stone and on wood,

words in tongues known — and unknown.


All alphabets finally running together —

with each letter as it was originally formed.


Sacred world texts written and unwritten —

so many over-redacted beyond recognition.


The routes that birds and bees follow over

lands and seas; hummingbirds from Mexico.


Everything that has moved across the faces

of earth — all that is beyond and deep within.


Nothing escapes connection: those little tiny

lines that attach, detach, and reattach again.

. . . . .

11 apr | Susan Powers Bourne

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