Archive for 2022

2021-11-19 – These leaves

Tuesday, February 1st, 2022

Lives, spent like leaves ripped from the trees.

I stop, and look into this vision, and I am impaled upon it.

This world; so vastly beyond my ability to understand.

We cry and we love and we cherish our children
and we are swept by the passions of this moment;
which become so irrelevant on the next turn.

And still the leaves spill from the trees
and the history books are full of how little
all the things we cared about mattered.

gallagher
19Nov21
Christchurch

-after reading Souief’s, “The Map of Love”

2021-11-19 – The Rest

Tuesday, February 1st, 2022

Here, where the light settles in the evening
and our thoughts come to rest,
here is the only place of peace;
except through the door into death.

For we still are, we still remain,
even if we cease our efforts at being.

And, if we are fortunate enough to
not have action and reaction forced upon us.

And, if we are smart enough
to let them go of our own free-will.

And, if we are wise enough
to welcome the next moment like a lover
and to put the past and the future away
in favor of this wordless revelation
of the only truth.

Then we can find rest.

Gallagher
19Nov 21
Christchurch

2022-04-04 – Night draws near

Wednesday, April 6th, 2022

I know that I am a transient form.
Just some matter, come to consciousness,
after a long 3 billion year climb.

A collection of memories, experiences, and genetics
that has mistaken itself for more than just
the collection of things that have happened to this body.

Before I was born – I was not.
And now – I am here.
But there is another turn to this wheel.

I see my transience – and I accept it.
I know that I am just a pattern impressed
on this passing flesh.

I am just a glimmer of reflection flashing for a moment
on the passing river
of genetic continuity.

But, forgive me if I feel a tinge of sadness,
amidst all this clarity,
because I’ve seen that my entire world lives lives within me
while I am.

I know that when I am gone
the world that lives within me – also goes…

Memories of walking the streets of Paris.

Reading the books of the great authors.

Remembering teen-aged wrestling and passion
in the back seats of cars.

And the tears when my son was born.

Everything I’ve learned and experienced of my world,
its history, its art, its aspirations and its cultures.

The Great Pyramid of Giza, the Acropolis and the
many layers of the Eternal City…
Will all cease for ‘this me’.

‘This me’ – risen from my mother’s breast,
risen into the excitements of childhood
and into all the passions of adulthood.

‘This me’ – risen now and waiting
in my later years
for all of existence to end.

To those whom I can still hear singing,
while I am still here,
I say, “Sing for your lives, my lovelies.”
For night draws near.

gallagher
4 Apr 22
Christchurch