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

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s