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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=477041" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Willow-Minded Friend Of Mine</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Willow-minded friend of mine <br>you're the star of Isis in the palm of my hand <br>that keeps me from drowning in a sea of glass. <br>How often have I been washed ashore <br>on the coasts of your flesh <br>like a naked sailor in an icestorm <br>of breaking chandeliers<br>and been taken to see the king <br>by a princess doing laundry? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">A firefly in the distance <br>might be a great star up close<br>and your every breath <br>seed the whirlwind <br>with golden drops of rain<br>after the tempest has exorcised its pain<br>and you grow more beautiful picture by picture <br>like someone who wants to be redeemed<br>in her own eyes<br>for things that only she could be.<br> <br>But that's not why I love you.<br>No siren no muse no priestess no witch<br>no shepherdess of exotic snakes <br>squirming with the future <br>like mystic themes around your body <br>no sacred whore ready to party in the temple<br>with Minervan night owls and Cepheid movie-stars<br>that don't want anybody to turn the lights on<br>to see what's going on in the darkness<br>they are to everybody, <br>you are to me more <br>than I have eyes to see<br>to the beginning and end of things<br>but I can feel the night within <br>flowing like dark energy through space <br>and tendrils of time growing like paisley lifelines<br>into something sweeter than the wine<br>the white mirror drinks from its own reflection.<br> <br>Before the arising of signs <br>I can feel your presence moving in me <br>like unborn constellations playing chess with time<br>to see who shall be the blossom <br>who the root<br>who the leaf <br>and who shall prime the lightning of the vine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Long before your veils are parted by no one <br>like rivers of insight<br>I can hear your stars <br>whispering things into my ear<br>that make whole worlds appear <br>rocking life in their arms like water.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Time is a mental space <br>with different flavours.<br>You taste like the wounded grace <br>of an eloquent truce with flowers<br>or as Dogen Zenji said in l238<br>the lucky day is when you discover it's all one day <br>meaning one chameleon <br>turning many different colours <br>to match the hours it spends<br>in front of the mirror<br>that keeps it guessing<br>who's the seer and who's the seen. <br>The grass turns red. <br>The flower turns green.<br> <br>How long have I waited for you <br>like a tide on the moon to come in <br>like the spoke of a tree for a rim of stars<br>like a metaphor in the chrysalis of a dragonfly for wings<br>you could see through like a stained-glass window<br>divining the silence like a witching wand <br>in a waterless church? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And it's all just been a moment ago <br>that isn't at the discretion of birth and death <br>I learned to breathe with you on the moon <br>like some atmospheric fish <br>transformed by a new medium <br>into whatever you wished me to be <br>when I was the lifeboat<br>in the eye of the endless sea <br>that washed me out like a cinder <br>with the tears of a passing mindstream <br>as if I got in the way of my own dream<br>and you? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">You were the mystic specificity <br>as you will always be <br>in the lunar pearl of it all<br>that sometimes doubles for my skull.<br> <br>And isn't it funny how when the night screams <br>it's always an aurora<br>that everyone mistakes for dawn? <br>A snail of a comet smears the mirror and moves on <br>and it's as good a path as any to follow I suspect <br>if I had a destination in mind <br>that wasn't looping in retrograde like a noose.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I may be as footloose and fancy-free as a ghost <br>but there's no end of this longing <br>that keeps making me up as I go along <br>trying to be true and strong <br>to what I love the most about being dead. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I think of you <br>and I burn in the terrible clarity <br>of a light that's never fallen on anyone<br>as if illumination were endlessly eyeless. <br>I think of you <br>like water looking up at the moon as it rises <br>and I realize the wingless openness <br>of the dark gates before me<br>and pass through like a midnight sun <br>whose seeing evaporates in the morning <br>like visions and words and waterbirds<br>that have been transcendentally uplifted out of the graves<br>of their own reflections.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We are what we need to be to each other <br>without knowing what that is<br>like a phantom kind of picture-music <br>that's always changing its lyrics <br>to keep up with the mood of the times <br>whether it's the high definition tunnel vision <br>of the smokey beekeepers<br>trying to bring law to the unruly flowers<br>or the dark energy of an expansive space <br>driving the stars like exiles <br>into the absolute sublimity of a starless place <br>deep in the heart of God <br>that even creation can't fill<br>or we're just kicking pebbles down the road together <br>through clouds of white sweet clover <br>like afternoon companions of each other's solitude.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Time is the poetry of the eternal<br>when love sits by itself under its willow tree <br>and watches the stream pass by <br>like the flowing eye it drinks from.<br>I drink pellucidly on the moon<br>from old grails of sacred blood <br>like an ark that survived the flood <br>only to find itself abandoned like a farm <br>on a mountaintop with two of every kind <br>except for one<br> <br>who made his way down alone with the alone<br>to sing his lover up out of the dead <br>as if he were missing one of his eyes<br>and the other had turned to stone.</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=477041" data-title="Willow-Minded Friend Of Mine de Patrick White" data-description="Willow-minded friend of mine 
you're the star of Isis in the palm of my hand 
that keeps me from drowning in a sea of glass. 
How often have I been washed ashore 
on the coasts of your flesh 
like a naked sailor in an icestorm 
of breaking chandel..."></div>
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