Tuesday, June 5, 2012
The Rope and the Sun
Around me I have shade, though I don't use it. There are places to hide from the rays, but the rays make me reference and give me history. The rays speak of consistency, impermanence, they have been there, and I am the one who will come and go. Just as it has been, it was there at that specific point in time - yes, that time. It has shown also on other backs, whose skins were also reflective .
I beat the ground with my bear feet like a preacher's sermon, the vocabulary often distant, but pounding clear and direct. The ground made softer with each skip, the soft dirt softer with each whip of the rope, the fine dust settling on my ankles, while the hard pebbles bounce off a near by tree. The sermon is heard by those who choose to listen, its deliverance aids me, and guides me. The sermon is a conversation with history. I feel they listen as I listen to the pounding of bare feet, jumping as if in a trance, as if reaching towards some Gods.