26 March 2013

Sometimes after I have come or just before I fall asleep, my mind seems to go out on a path the width of a thread and of endless length,
a thread that is the same colour as the night.
Out, out along the narrow highway sails my mind,
driven by curiosity,
luminous with acceptance,
far and out,
like a feathered hook whipped deep into the light above the stream by a
magnificent cast
Somewhere, out of my reach, my control, the hook unbends into a spear,
the spear sheers itself into a needle,
and the needle sews the world together

It sews the skin onto the skeleton and lipstick on a lip
It sews scarves onto mountains,
it goes through everything like a renlentless bloodstream,
and the tunnel is filled with a comforting message, a beautiful knowledge of unity.
All the disparates of the world,
the different wings of the paradox,
coin-faces of problem,
petal-pulling questions,
scissors-shaped conscience,
all the polarities,
things and their images and things which cast no shadow,
and just the everday explosions on the street,
this face and that,
a house and a toothache,
explosions which merely have different letters in their names,

My needle pierces them all,
and I myself,
my greedy fantasies,
everything which has existed and does not exist.

We are part of a necklace of incomparable beauty and unmeaning.

- Leonard Cohen