Wednesday, March 19, 2014


I wrote this poem about 20 years ago describing one of my preincarnate memories of my journey into physical existence before I was born. I've titled and retitled it several times over the years. I'm now retitling it again - COSMOS.

first rhythms ever plunge, eternal hosts driven into life
drawing through a field of topographic brilliance
where judgment lovingly flows, churning out whole stones
resting against asymmetries trying, like diamonds in chaos
proto-perception foams, over annihilating operations
and from it, dark bursts of lucidity finely entwine
coarse grains of almost something, almost yet sufficient
the silent rush of yet nothing slides, wildly as percolating pivots
diligently thread through it, casting clarity
upon myriads, hard pauses startle into vision
projecting arrays without mass, strings of confluency
impressing discovery, a shadowy tail-end lingers
between depths of opposite observation
iterating embraces of many meanings like quasi-quanta
gathering functions about the head and, and
spinning spectra, pushing forward, yearning toward home
not knowing, yet only knowing
as some featureless reach edging edges stretches out
the magnetic sweet dance
where divisions collapse like crystal caves
softly sprinkling the belly of the night divine
with bytes of thoughtbare kisses
extending the glorious field of apprehension

Home - GINNUNGAGAP. In the ancient tradition of my ancestors, ginnungagap is the name of the vast primordial "place" from which proceeds unfolding of ever-evolving manifestation. One etymological interpretation of the Old Norse word ginnungagap is the "magical (and creative) power-filled space."

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