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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476490" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>As If Beyond Death</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">As if beyond death today, <br>	as if I lay already under the eyelid of the moon, <br>		the echo of my heart <br>pumping shadows<br>	through my perfectly preserved corpse<br>		in a silence that's never known the wind, <br>a fallen wharf without arrivals or departures, <br>	and sad enough not to care why, <br>		blood on the dolphin in the black tide <br>that pours me out of the horseshoe of the bay <br>	like a road from its boot, <br>		wipes me like the pollen and dust of dark matter <br>off the windowsills of the constellations, <br>	my unknown mass crucial <br>		to the cosmic contractions <br>that might give birth to the world again, <br>	and I'm here alone in the high field<br>		drowning in the twilight with the wildflowers <br>and the sky a last exhalation of the blue-green luster <br>	that flirts with the mystic violet <br>		on a homing crow's head<br>as the shadows assemble the wings <br>	of a total eclipse<br>		and a new dragon is born of the pain <br>that shrieks like lightning in the mouth of the abyss, <br>	a torn animal<br>		peeled out of its own skin like an eye <br>to add its darkness to the furnace of the black rose <br>	that roars in the night <br>		to blood the hungry mirror <br>with the thorns and talons of clarity, <br>	to feed the wound of its existence <br>		its existence.<br>And when I walk to the end of myself <br>	through the golden rod and waist-high asters, <br>		the seed of the stars that sleep with the daughters of men, <br>some of the flowers close up like fists and kisses<br>	and others grasp themselves like a key <br>		to a door that the whole universe can walk through, <br>and there are strange birds <br>	flying from the eyes <br>		in the rising skull of the moon <br>that sing like the pyres of cremated guitars <br>	that died like trees in their solitude<br>		and even the gates are weeping like wild dogs.<br>And there's a wind, intelligent, dark<br>	the ghost of an ancient serpent <br>		horned without ears, <br>an ocean of mind that exceeds itself like a wave <br>	that howls like a secret it can't tell itself, <br>		like a root blind to its own flowers, <br>that wants to lead my voice away in chains, <br>	that wants my tongue to try <br>		like a leaf in the updraft of a fire storm <br>to scream its agony out in the night<br>	so that even the furthest star shudders <br>		with the horror of its final liberation <br>like an arrow through the throat of a caged hawk.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Patrick+White">Patrick White</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476490" data-title="As If Beyond Death de Patrick White" data-description="As if beyond death today, 
	as if I lay already under the eyelid of the moon, 
		the echo of my heart 
pumping shadows
	through my perfectly preserved corpse
		in a silence that's never known the wind, 
a fallen wharf without arrivals or departure..."></div>
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