Thursday, February 11, 2010
What I Do (poem)
What I Do
May what I do flow from me like a river.
Rilke
I am not sure if
it is a river,
or an ocean,
or a clear mountain stream
hurtling down the rocky decline
but whatever it is
keeps flowing forth,
sometimes in
a headlong gush,
sometimes contemplative
and still,
yet pouring, pouring,
unstoppable,
pure,
words manifesting
like the unsolved riddle
of protons
becoming mass,
light becoming matter,
god becoming word,
self becoming
her song.
Dorothy Walters
February 10, 2010
