In the stir and crackle of moment
the assembly blinks and settles
as the universe spins still at massive velocity
around a centrifugal point
the microphone stand
the sitting room
the afternoon breeze
the words that are plucked
like grapes
from the inner caverns
of vision
And passed around like sweet and sour
or picante hors d'oeuvres
steeped in life's hunger to know
meat from gristle
seed from rind
as the
pestle and mortar of heart and mind
separate food from foul and ash from ember.
we all breathe in as
the sentences breath out into the room
like a single organism.
yet so multifaceted
as to remain almost a continually evolving mystery
even to our own corner of the room.
our eyes shift and pause looking into one another
for the common ground and the boundary
till we weave a unity of cross purposes
and break and remake pacts with ourselves
and one another unless we disarm in weariness
over it or give in to the habit of battle or silence.
So as the curtains and the shutters and odd assortment of chairs and faces
take backstage to collective memory and we are emboldened to lay bare our
families founding grand/fathers foibles and follies we are able to alloy his glowing
strengths and it quickens us all to feel its pulse living still
stirring in our unbidden moments of grief and hope and confusion and calm that frame grasping for what we are and are not.
For I know all to well that I will cast off from this same stage all to soon
and the roles we have played will echo and fall silent
and be recalled and replayed
and forgotten again
till memories blood and myth
join like the dust of stars
and our unique mosaic of DNA
falling from the undertakers hand
into the silent
AHHHH!

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