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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476635" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>I Have Become My Own Season</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I have become my own season <br>living through these renewable eras of you <br>that come and go <br>like the fragrances of passing stars<br>that sometimes stop by the gate <br>to talk about the garden blooming late. <br>Some flowers wait for the moon to open, <br>to throw their arms around space <br>as if they could encompass everything <br>in the brief embrace of their petals, <br>and their seeing is one eye under multiple eyelids<br>as they burn like jewels in the night<br>to keep it all shining and bright.<br>But I've worn out the elbows<br>of my insatiable longing <br>on the windowsills of a different insight.<br>Saddened by the distance, the time, the circumstances, <br>delinquent desires still hanging out their shingles <br>like green apples on a dead branch in winter, <br>withering like the inconsolable eyes of old men<br>who have died like sons <br>and now must die like fathers, <br>mine is the darker radiance <br>of the faint halo of light <br>around a black hole <br>that summons everything <br>down into it like the sea <br>sitting below its own salt <br>at a stranger's table. <br>You can't look into <br>the black mirrors in my house <br>with your eyes open<br>because they only reflect <br>what's on the back of your eyelids <br>where the only light is your own<br>and you are the road<br>and the lantern you go by <br>and everything you feel and think and imagine <br>is your own true face without skin<br>not the gate between outside and in. <br>How could I ever recognize you <br>in these dark spaces <br>if it weren't for the trees <br>and the stars and the moon<br>and the night stream that runs through me <br>like a lifeline on the palm of my hand <br>down from the mountains <br>in a rush of diamonds and gold<br>that pour out like the pent-up emotions<br>of a sword that's just been pulled from a stone? <br>And how hugely alone the night is <br>when you love someone as they are<br>and you realize without effort <br>that if you hold them a moment in their transience<br>you hold them like a star in a locket of water<br>that tastes like the past.<br>There are people <br>like treebound barrels of rain <br>and then there are people like me <br>who leak out of their lives <br>like radioactive water <br>that couldn't pool the pain<br>long enough to stop the meltdown <br>long enough to cool the brain, <br>long enough to let it kill me. <br>Now in the darkness<br>seeded with the dust of black dwarfs <br>trying to clench a fist of coal into diamonds <br>my auroras are weeping neon dew<br>like a cheap enlightenment <br>all over the watercolours of dawn.<br>And I'm wondering <br>what kind of an afterlife is this <br>that I might have foregone <br>if I were indifferent <br>to how my solitude deranges me <br>like a lost continent <br>wandering through its own mindscapes <br>like an extinguished star <br>that wants to make up <br>just for one luminous moment <br>a constellation of its own<br>that doesn't wait upon anyone's eyes<br>for the themes of its seeing. <br>And though the skies have changed<br>like the slides of childhood dreams <br>with every blink of an eyelid<br>whenever night approaches me <br>and asks to sit by my fire <br>and let the flames and the smoke <br>of our past lives <br>speak for the both of us<br>I look up to give my eyes <br>like two drops of water<br>back to their oceanic immensities<br>and it's always unattainably you <br>that is shining<br>like a woman in the window<br>of a secret house of the zodiac <br>far off the beaten path<br>that leads everywhere like a firefly. <br>And your stars speak to me <br>as if my flesh were light again<br>and my heart <br>that bumps its way through the dark <br>already a lamp beyond <br>the Lazarus of wax<br>that's buried in his own lucidities <br>like a candle I left for dead.</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=476635" data-title="I Have Become My Own Season de Patrick White" data-description="I have become my own season 
living through these renewable eras of you 
that come and go 
like the fragrances of passing stars
that sometimes stop by the gate 
to talk about the garden blooming late. 
Some flowers wait for the moon to open, 
to t..."></div>
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