_ / \ \_/ The circle the mouth makes. O. The body speaks, the cry at the centre of, voice;
The circle the mouth makes. O. The body speaks, the cry at the centre
of, voice; my feeling goes out to go; kiss, I take you into me. (And the
elephants stand in a circle, they say, to protect their young.) And I take
you left hand with my right hand and your right hand with my left hand,
the circular structure of waves of sound: resonance. From the one to the
other to the one again. Let the circle be unbroken.
The circuitous path to the centre I look at you the coincidence I see
the long trail of your coming. The spiral of DNA. The calculus of
variations. (Round being the most natural of shapes, they say, the egg,
they mention, the womb, we know the round belly, we remember, the stomach,
the round grave.) Fate. Capable of being the mother of the world- the
flower of responsibility.
Everything its own vortex. May it be beautiful above me. May it be
beautiful behind me. Before me. The energy of the leaf, below me, into the
air, around me, into the water, into the earth again to the root to the
lead. Ceaseless change and becoming. (The circular tree trunk telling
time, the diameter of star light, telling time.) As in "How long as this
star been shining?" or Where does this light travel? we ask, or What space
is in this circle?
The circle from which I came. And the law of gravitation. Whay I am
here and not there. The circle which means all bodies in the universe
attract one another. And the pilgrim circles the heart of the universe
which is his or her own heart. And the circle whose centre is everywhere
but whose circumfrence is nowhere. Closing. Opening. And all circled
around her, the continual continuity, and responded to her, the infinite
infinitude. As in shell, cell, cervix, as in star, snowflake, crystal,
atom as in flower. The infinite As a whirlwind as opposed to the bound
shakes my head and the sound which speaks our names.
The Neopsychedelic Underground
E-Mail Fredric L. Rice / The Skeptic Tank