light films the dark pond

Pond Song 4.3

 

An astonishing order arises within singulars and between singulars. GB 138

 

light films the dark pond__between water and clouds

a creamy translucency__on this shortest day crowds

 

of ducks feed in silence__old snow gives underfoot

bronze bells call the people__the sudden necessary naught

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not quite a blizzard

Pond Song 4.2

 

In the love of the singular, our art can show something of agapeic mindfulness and its hyperbolic import. GB 137

 

 

Not quite a blizzard__flakes scatter across the pond

ice islands rotate in the tide__in silence going round

 

inner form comes to a head__it means more than it meant

a bufflehead disappears__snow melts in the current

gull’s broken cry

Pond Song 4.1

 

To be finite is to be good, not to be defective, even though the finite needs what is beyond itself, and points beyond itself to what it lacks. G&B 59

 

gull’s broken cry __ sun moves in cloud

mudflats glitter__the tide goes out

 

lack brings me here__in the overflow

ice cracks underfoot__ex nihilo

 

much is given__beyond metaphor

the light changes__dabbling ducks mutter

 

pale clouds streak the pond

Pond Song 3.77

equivocity just this doubleness of showing and concealing GB 57

 

pale clouds streak the pond__double movements open space

in the gray thorn firey rosehips__nearly touching the surface

 

tips of the wings of the heron__the great blue doubling difference

it becomes the horizon__of transcience the other sense

 

Lao Tzu’s enabling nothing__light rain smudges my notes

the pond pointed with lights__this empty-fulness without quotes