Startled by Existence

Sept. ii (Sept 12/13-01)

A totally inadequate poem

From the Journals of the Kirk--Why do I take pictures 1985:

So, here we have it. I want to share with you a world. I want to tell you that the world is at once an unapproachable glory, the outlands of heaven in our midst. I want to tell you that the world is alive with ongoing miracle and that the trees are like hard seaweed on the bottom of the Numa Sea . (Where did that come from?) I want too, to tell you that the thing is broken, the world has veered, and the code has been rewritten. I want you to sell your car or house, Finally, I want them to tear down the World Trade Centers… or better yet, convert them into apartments for the poor, or if not that, build some huge barn between them and make them into the front spires of a very grand cathedral.

I’ll admit,

this thought isn’t safe

or a thing I say too loud (but hear me out.)

 

I have seen them with a foreign eye

like turrets on a godless-church,

silvereen, and soaring high

But missing the cathedral --

 

Testimonies to the arrogance of man

against every rule of nature,

TALL with vertigo and force,

streaming upward like

welded boxcars --

Two silver fists

in the face of God:

Like spikes in a rotted apple.

 

 

But today, I weep

and if you will, let me

with imagination

bleed.

 

Bleed for pagans

and believers,

the bearded business men, the

brokers and the broken,

the silent mimes and firemen,

sisters, daughters, mothers, fathers, and

these ever-feuding sons of Abraham --

 

Indeed,

Father Abraham

has many sons --

those who walk in faith and seek

a city

made by God;

But don't we weep to see

Faith twisted into obscene forms.

 

---

Today,

I see with different eyes,

and I repent .. for wearing monocles.

 

Could it be

that a THING might be

MORE

than any ONE thing

at once?

 

Today, I see what were

twin trumpets,

Blasting out a tune to

to the majesty of man.

 

I see

two trees

mightier than redwoods,

brushing stars

and brushed

in lemon light

like a sky-house hotel

for Leprechauns.

 

I see

mighty rivers decked

in vivid commerce;

Old-world villages

replete with jugglers and silk –

boats on ropes whizzing up the ditches

laden with exotic wares from foreign lands

like some grand-market

tipped upward.

 

I see twin

Towers, like thin lanes of light,

Bars of gold, beacons on the rim --

shining out a tale of

industry and might

and incomprehensible blessing --

leading a parade.

 

I see within,

and on each floor

(stacked above each other like coins)

a little town from Arkansas

complete

with hatted men

and football teams,

the smiling bells (now wearing jeans)

and the bee-hive ladies yakking

at the hair salon.

 

I see faith in the 24the century.

 

Indeed,

We saw a universe

with fifty-thousand centers

anchored in a common block.

 

We heard the twine of beating hearts

like a ten-thousand drums, and then

the lull,

and now, the tortured

patter of the few,

 

And we felt within ourselves

the stuff of horror.

 

Veins, and brains

and towers like slit arteries

collapsing into bloody dust

before our eyes.

 

..

They say, on the radio today

that this is a different country.

And we believe it.

We will never feel the same.

We are all new Yorkers, wearing black.

 

***

 

Once there were two towers

Tall as titans

Full of grace

She wore the moon within her hair,

He wore the sun upon his face,

and they walked with the I-AM

in the garden

without shame.

Then some devil of a serpent

slashed the air,

One tower fell, and then…