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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476504" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Begin</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Begin anywhere. <br>Topple fall jump stumble plunge<br>into the eyeless abyss<br>into the roadless homelessness <br>of not knowing where you're going<br>or who'll you'll be by the time you get there.<br>Slash your way through the stretched canvas <br>of a painted sky<br>like a rogue star <br>with the blood of Betelgeuse <br>dripping from your brush if you must<br>perform your own Caesarian<br>to get out of yourself like an egg <br>into the Big Abide Beyond<br>and stretch your wings from dusk till dawn.<br> Don't hover like a cloud over starmaps <br>trying to work out a flight plan<br>waiting for the weather to clear for take-off.<br>In an infinite universe such as this <br>wherever you are <br>in this spatial lost and found <br>you're always the center of everything.<br>How could you not know where you are<br>or who <br>when there's nowhere to go <br>and no one to be <br>that isn't centred in its own origin eternally? <br>But it helps to get a jump on your own light like a star <br>now and again <br>if you want to stay in the game <br>long enough to turn your farce into a legend <br>that isn't hard on the eyes. <br>So begin. <br>Like a surprise. <br>Like a leftover birthday you found in the attic<br>you were saving for a special day that never came.<br>Get it on. <br>Begin. <br>Break the mirror. <br>Throw a rock through your own reflection.<br>There's no countdown <br>for a firefly or lightning bolt<br>no fuse on the Big Bang that became the universe <br>so let's just have ignition<br>spontaneously timeless and complete <br>go off <br>get out <br>get down<br>like the primordial atom<br>with your own expression of yourself <br>before the arising of signs <br>teaches the flowers <br>they mustn't colour <br>outside the lines of themselves.<br>Don't let the Lilliputians tie Gulliver down again. <br>Don't imperil Pauline <br>by tying her to the tracks <br>like a rehabilitated junkie<br>to wait for a train in vain<br>on the same old beaten path <br>your thoughts tread like cattle <br>back to the barn of your brain at dusk.<br>Or horses when it's burning. <br>Begin in your aftermath.<br>Shoulder the world that weighs <br>like a rock in your grave <br>meant to keep you from rising <br>and blow it off like dust. <br>Come down on yourself like a meteor <br>and begin a new species of life <br>among the bones of the dinosaurs. <br>Get lost in this desert of stars <br>like the Rosetta Stone <br>of a new language of scars<br>no one's ever spoken before<br>around a fire in the night<br>and be the first word of your own light<br>to give names to things in the garden. <br>The happy genius of your own beginnings.<br>How many nights must pass? <br>How many days? <br>How many full moons wane <br>and ice ages come and go <br>and trees turn into grasslands <br>and continents shatter like skulls<br>that grind their teeth in the night <br>before you finally let go <br>and begin.<br>Mercury had wings on his heels <br>when he took off on the wind <br>but look at you <br>standing there <br>at the edge of the world <br>with parachutes on your shoes <br>like a medium without a message. <br>Take them off.<br>Go barefoot over the stars of your firewalk like water.<br>Take off that used straitjacket <br>you bought at the Salvation Army <br>like the larva of a dragonfly <br>looking for a hand-me-down chrysalis on the cheap.<br>You can't read your fate like dna<br>in another man's fortune-cookie.<br>And there's already enough sky around us <br>for everyone to share <br>like a planetary cocoon <br>without anyone running out of room <br>for worms to turn into butterflies<br>wolves into whales<br>raptors into birds with feathers and scales.<br>Where things end is where they begin. <br>They're Siamese twins <br>you can't separate like a loveletter<br>into before and after<br>because they've only got <br>the one birth <br>the one breath <br>between them both <br>and the same is true of their death.<br>So if you're already over before you begin <br>why hesitate? <br>What have you got to lose <br>when there's nothing to choose<br>between lying in wait like yesterday<br>for what you think you know<br>will come along in its own good time <br>and what you can't anticipate<br>that comes up on you from behind <br>like eyes to the blind in a dream <br>and says it's later than it seems.<br>Where have you been? <br>You're on in the next scene<br>right after the death of the old queen.<br>Let the lines memorize you for a change. <br>Friends fall apart <br>when they stop being strangers to one another. <br>Babies stop turning solitude into single mothers. <br>You can gnaw on the bone of the known for years <br>to get down to the marrow of things <br>and still not be satisfied when you do<br>and then the hunger you never taught to hunt <br>begins to eat you. <br>So jump. <br>Like a fish in a still pond. <br>Like a frog from a lilypad. <br>Go mad. <br>Go ballistic. <br>Go beyond that place <br>where even to say you're lost in space <br>doesn't make any sense<br>and nothing's ever moved in a straight line <br>that wasn't a special form of a curve.<br>Why wait for the apocalypse <br>to come down on you like an old rafter <br>that breaks with every firecracker that goes off<br>when your own explosive potential <br>makes that look like a firefly with a wet fuse? <br>How long have you lepered your stars in the sun<br>or your constellation paled in the dawn <br>like a tattoo you had taken off your arm <br>like an old love affair that's over and gone? <br>Live on. <br>Jump from the top stair.<br>Slide down the bannister<br>in the opposite direction <br>like a double helix <br>in the southern hemisphere.<br>Do something <br>you can get away with<br>that stays true to your disobedience<br>like evolution. <br>Draw a line in the sand <br>then overstep the bounds <br>like a crosswind that wipes it out. <br>The measure of a human is a human<br>without a forwarding address<br>that can find its way back<br>like an abandoned cat<br>to the threshold and doorway<br>of our homelessness<br>where we left like a loveletter to the world<br>that returns unread<br>with nothing to say <br>that would have made any difference anyway. <br>A phoenix might be born in fire <br>but it doesn't nest in the flames.<br>You can't keep what you won't give away<br>so if you want to stay here<br>like a chameleon in front of a mirror <br>that likes to reflect things as they change <br>you have to do it like air <br>and grow wings. <br>You have to become a dragon. <br>Or a snake who knows <br>how to rise above things <br>like an eagle or a sea on the moon<br>that got caught like a fish out of water<br>in the first and last crescents of its own talons. <br>Don't let yourself be tossed around <br>like an overturned lifeboat<br>that set out to rescue you <br>from the undertow of reality<br>and got swept off its own feet<br>before they could turn into oars. <br>Don't be a shore-hugger <br>on the dunes of your own mindstream.<br>Go along with the flow <br>like the oxygen in your blood <br>that was conceived in a fire-womb<br>in the belly of a star <br>in outer space<br>and then took a meteor to this place <br>where it's bagged by your lungs <br>and rushed to your face <br>like a lip transplant for a kissing-stone. <br>Just as every question is the prelude of the answer <br>so every prayer for direction <br>is the direction of prayer.<br>The Kaaba waits like a pilgrim <br>for the first crescent of the moon <br>to circumambulate you<br>in all directions at once<br>and in all months of the year<br>like the sun through the zodiac <br>when it shines at midnight<br>and the sky is unusually clear. <br>The mystery of life <br>that seeks you out <br>like its best guess at everything <br>is just that<br>is just this <br>a mystery <br>not a secret waiting to be told<br>like a baby without a name <br>that's grown post-mature <br>and gummy in the womb<br>like matter in the matrix of being.<br>And when things let go of the green bough<br>like the singing bird in your heart <br>or a windfall of silver apples <br>shaken from a dead branch by the wind<br>when the moon goes down over the hills <br>and all that's left of the view <br>is two elbows on a worn-out windowsill<br>watching things return to themselves for the night<br>like stars and dust and dew<br>and love when it's over<br>tastes autumn on its breath <br>like long sad thoughts of last September<br>that always seem to end in death and sorrow<br>it helps to remember <br>the seeds in the green apples of spring <br>that are buried in their birth<br>as if there could never be a tomorrow<br>that wouldn't open their small sad eyes<br>like fireflies in the orchards of earth <br>that age like the truth<br>in a purple passage <br>on the second to last page <br>they burn through falling asleep<br>thinking of things to come<br>as if each were either a lighthouse<br>or the evening star in the morning <br>or a tiny Armageddon in a mason jar<br>as big and bright as the universe<br>that goes off without warning <br>everywhere all the time.</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=476504" data-title="Begin de Patrick White" data-description="Begin anywhere. 
Topple fall jump stumble plunge
into the eyeless abyss
into the roadless homelessness 
of not knowing where you're going
or who'll you'll be by the time you get there.
Slash your way through the stretched canvas 
of a painted sky
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