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And Downstairs


Contemplating dying,
I'm not concerned about “my self”;
I feel sorry for my hands,
sorry for my feet;
for everything in between!

I often sit back and listen
to the madrigal of my hands;
its ten voices,

and I watch, attentively, my feet
with their ten little drummer boys
pounding the path

I listen, in awe,
to their chief;
the bass drum
inside the rib cage;
insistent, fierce, enduring

and I hear the wheezing
of the rivers and streams
of the cardiovascular matrix,

while from afar,
inside my Vipashyana practice,
I see my thoughts butterfly about
over the summery meadow of mind,
which registers, in the distance,
a motorbike gearing up
out on the highway
in a remote auditive likness
of a housefly behind the curtain
deep
in someone's recollection
of childhood,

and downstairs Glenn Gould is humming
over his keyboard
where The Goldberg Variations reside




Fri vers (Fri form) av Ingvar Loco Nordin VIP
Läst 63 gånger
Publicerad 2023-01-19 10:59



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