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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476931" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Nuns Are Sleeping On Graves With Their Pagan Lovers</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The nuns are sleeping on graves with their pagan lovers. <br>The black walnut trees have shed their leaves<br>half way between feathers and scales<br>like arboreal dinosaurs that are learning to fly. <br>And the branches of the staghorn sumac <br>that went up in flames like the rest of the greenwood <br>now look like the ribs of a snake blanched in the ashes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I tell the hard rocks chiselled down to the lake<br>as if they were animate, sapient, sentient life forms <br>I know just how they feel <br>when they're dreaming of Carrara marble<br>and someone steps on them <br>like a skull of a common cornerstone<br>you can take for granted, but the birds, <br>why is it always the birds that are the first <br>to be alert to things like this, tell me <br>not to deprive them of their extinction.<br>So I'm prone to keeping my words to myself <br>when I'm on a backwoods pilgrimage alone <br>with too many death masks hiding the face of the moon.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Half the abandoned roads I've walked through life <br>have turned back in upon themselves <br>like an ingrown hair of a noose <br>in a claustrophic cul de sac, <br>like a thread of the mindstream<br>trying to close the eyelid of a needle that's dead.<br>But the other half of the labyrinth<br>on the dark side of seeing led me into clearings <br>in the middle of nowhere I ever expected to be startled by stars<br>that set my heart racing with mystic terror as if a partridge <br>just exploded out of the bushes in front of me<br>and enlightenment came to me for an hour or two <br>with such force of clarity I was breathing light not air.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And I didn't become one with everything.<br>How can anyone say they're one with everything <br>without resorting to the past tense the moment they say it? <br>I stood my ground beside unity like zero<br>because nothingness is the only way <br>of comprehending one without being excluded by it <br>like the exception that puts the lie to the whole, <br>and I amplified its immensity tenfold.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ask any silo. There's no limit to what you can hold <br>when you're empty compared to what you can <br>when you're full. Even on upgraded hobby farms <br>where the wheat and the corn are stored <br>in more ample, lightning proof Euclidean storage spaces, <br>if you look over your shoulder in passing <br>at the old wooden siloes barely holding their ribs together <br>with rusting metal bands, cooper's barrels <br>abandoned closer to the road that's been widened since then, <br>their roofs blown off by the wind like the lids of garbage cans, <br> <br>I've seen fully mature trees, rooted in the compost <br>at the bottom, rising up like green oil strikes toward the sky <br>or a clown like me being shot out of a cannon toward the stars<br>and landing in the safety nets of the laughing constellations<br>who weren't expecting to catch anything that night <br>but a few eyes out swimming too far, too deep from shore. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Just because it's a long shot, and your aim's off, <br>and your not quite as profound or sublimely targeted<br>as the asteroid that destroyed the dinosaurs, <br>doesn't mean you still can't make a big impact as a meteor<br>holding on to the flower in your hat for dear life<br>like a butterfly in a firestorm of dragons <br>with a childlike sense of humour marrowed<br>in the smooth bore barrels of their dusky funny bones.</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=476931" data-title="The Nuns Are Sleeping On Graves With Their Pagan Lovers de Patrick White" data-description="The nuns are sleeping on graves with their pagan lovers. 
The black walnut trees have shed their leaves
half way between feathers and scales
like arboreal dinosaurs that are learning to fly. 
And the branches of the staghorn sumac 
that went up in..."></div>
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