THIS ENTITY AT THIS POINT

Once again among you

I have wailed and denounce and lamented--

now I must return--to repent--to confess--to atone--

hard as this transition will be--may it not be worse than what we've known previously--

life will continue one way or another and what is to come

will reflect what has been--but not to be repeated--nor reinstated--

I've been outcast too long--will I be forgiven my ingratitude?

will I finally forget the price of disloyalty to those who trusted me?

finally forget the sufferings and loneliness of my separation?

will I be taken back in, and go out no more?

our time in the earth is ending and the term is closing--

it's a long way to go if you don't know where you've been--

I await the final word of my liege--may I not doubt my own words

of confession--may I no longer abuse the grace that has protected me all along—



that was me—ages ago—an outcast—a Wraecca as the Olde English would call the wandering exile—

pompous even to himself I was—

and oh what do I have to show for it but a ground’s eye view of a misty park this fine late winter evening—and lampposts like lit dandelions—ablaze with spores of seed-snow trembling to join a breeze through the deserted night
as he—I that is—felt pulling in the brain clashing memories that resembled each other in the guises of various times—

all this agitation in the soothing dampness of  a night—where now a cleft forms in the air over the park—a glowing sheen of moonlight surging brighter then dimming—brighter then dimming—radiates in that pocket of fog—then fades away as the air again comes together and the mist again dominates—

and in all this instant—I who was he—and I who was she—but always always I—we all stay in this moment just a moment longer—but before again I must move forward—before I again must move on—


how much I’ve longed to escape the physical world—how much I wanted to flee the pain and the suffering of this lowest level of creation—with the densest concentration of energy and the heavy drag of flesh and matter destroying any hope of transcendence—

but no—it’s not like that—oh poor deluded ignoramus I am—here is here and now is now and oh so much illusion to strip away to even begin to live as we should—






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