shadow-play realities


In the dancing shadow-play of the earthly Mother’s warming womb
we wait for silence-seconds;
among these limestone growing sculptures
reality is shrinking with the distance to the anthill skyscrapering
of mould-infested jungle-towns
(where leeches. snakes and spiderwebs soon will rule);
we thrive within the limitation of the glowing water trickling,
confining set-constructions – with moving filigree of batwings –
and that perfect crust of amethyst (that used to be your heart);
but with each Minuteman, our memories will die:
  – of starry skies
  – of sun-burns on a naked thigh
  – of salt-infested western wind;
the sand-tear reminds me of the mushroom clouds we left,
and the radiated toddler-tentacles that fumble for his breast.

Hang Sơn Đoòng, Vietnam

Hang Sơn Đoòng, Vietnam


Linked to Toads

October 3, 2014

10 responses to “shadow-play realities

  1. Oh, I just love, love that we both saw in this amazing cave…the ultimate womb of earth…sigh…

    I love the list-y-ness that happens toward the end and your closing line…excellent, Bjorn…I’m so happy this inspired you…thank you for joining!

  2. This is gritty and offers real commentary on relationships and our place on the planet. The last two lines are killer.

  3. I admire the word pairings- silence-seconds, sand tear ~ I also like the part of when our memories will die ~ The warming womb is a tomb ~

  4. Many, many layers to this piece – but what really resonated with me was the close “our memories will die:” and on so many levels, sadly, yes they will.

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