to know well the moments, but nothing of time – a poem

the mindful peace of the cypress beckons,
she bows in the wind but doesn’t fracture,
she knows well the moments, but nothing of time
her poetry is written in presence, not words

in this business of life, of death and of poetry
yesterday is, i think, best forgotten ~
just a figment, after all, an old locked-room mystery,
stored among a million neurons, a trillion constellations,
sound proof, but for the occasional cerebral accident
with its quick crack of a gunshot fading into a yellow eye,
evaluating with a understandable skepticism

life, as it turns out, is a matter of imagination,
or folly, nurturing the seesaw of grief and joy,
the contrapuntal pulls of yin and yang

we can reframe, but we can’t rewrite
there are no encores

this business of life, of death and of poetry is what it is
and the past is not a salve nor the future a savior,
the same sun that warms words poemed into life
will dry our skin to leather and weld it to bone ~

moss, says Emily, will cover up our names

it’s best then, i think, to mimic the cypress
to let go the days, the clutter and the noise,
to bow from the winds but not shatter,
to know well the moments, but nothing of time

© 2017, Jamie Dedes


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We continue with the current recommended read: On Tyranny: Twenty Lessons from the Twentieth Century by Timothy Snyder. Left, right or center – American or not – it’s a must read.

LESSON EIGHT: Stand Out. “Someone has to.  It is esy to follow along It can feel strange to do or say something different.  But wihtout that unease, there is no freedom. Remembr Rosa Parks.  The moment you set an example, the spell o the status quo is broke, and others will follow.”  Prof. Snyder,  On Tyranny, Twenty Lessons from the Twentieth Century

6 thoughts on “to know well the moments, but nothing of time – a poem

  1. I have a notion that whatever age we have arrived at, it represents the level of the water in our glass of life. My life is therefore, maybe, two-thirds full … as opposed to one-third empty … and what a full life it has been. In this sense time does become less relevant, if for no other reason, like the cypress, we have no knowledge of time. So we just have presence, the present is all we know. We should therefore focus on simply being … just BE.

    What a beautiful and deeply meaningful poem this is, Jamie.

    Liked by 1 person

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