Sage

Those Who Dance Are Considered Insane by Those Who Can’t Hear the Music

Friedrich Nietzsche

Painting by Sergio Martinez

i burn sage to quieten my mind,

as the exhausted words scratch

the sweetness of this mellow hiatus

before they call me insane again.

What i was yesterday

sleeps restlessly among the herbs

which were gathered to cure blindness

as this music plays and i dance with Nietzsche.

The smell pierces me,

i bleed poetry:

magic starts with emotion.

The time is meek

and meek is what is to come.

Here only the infinite

“me bigger than i am.”

Stars are multiplied in constellations,

Neptune comes out of the sea,

Orion throws his arrow at me,

hurting me, hunting what i already

miss because it can’t be possessed.

In nothingness,

i see everything

and i - this immense nothing,

this immeasurable immaculate vacuum

is the impermanent sea encircling the world,

is the undisturbed vapor of the sage dancing

in the sky immersed in inexplicable plenitude.

.

Karla Bardanza

Copyright©Karla Bardanza 2012