All the springs ran dry
For I drank and emptied their waters
Till my gut could take no more.
The struggling fish of the waterless rivers
Spoke in unison, a ringing in my head
You thirst not for water.
A feast I’m welcomed to
Rows of tables stretched beyond the horizon
I bit into the chargrilled flesh of an ancient creature.
My hunger deepened
You crave not for food
The voice of the flesh rang through my sinews.
A field with a tree I sat under
Restless and still
The sky poured through the branches
The spring waters inside me stirred
They spoke of ancient wisdom
My teeth tingled
A key turned within the confines of my mind
The Cosmos laid bare in the unseen eye.
leaves fell against my cheeks
I felt no thirst
I felt no hunger
I had broken my body
but I lived nonetheless
All of eternity in a moments wake.
As I sat writing down an ode to my longing to understand the world we live in and the many layered, multi-dimensional nature of all of existence. I stumbled upon word,
Komorebi: A word the Japanese have for sunlight filtering through the trees. The interplay between light and leaves.
My poem above was a predecessor to my discovery of Komorebi. Full, complete, unchangeable. I fought the urge to fortify the remarkable coincidence, inversely timed. I wanted to be seperately inspired by the word and come up with a new poem.
I looked through my usual database of artist’s for a feature image. But nothing seemed to want to be in the frame with my poem, not even stock or pixabay.
Hidden in a collection of forgotten images from a time much before the Ode or Komorebi was known to me, I had captured the tree, the lights and the leaves.
A cross pollination by sheer coincidence. Some things should be left for time to bring together and the story writes itself.