Saturday, 19 July 2014

Not a Camp NaNoWriMo Update

 I'm delaying that post until tomorrow because I haven't managed to write anything over the last week and I'm hoping I'll manage to write something by tomorrow.

 So for today it's tie to show off Doug's poetry again!

 (Fair warning though, this is a rough draft. Just a very good rough draft.)

A Letter to Enoch before he Walks with God.

Breathe deep.

Breathe deep. Let the dust fill you. Let it hurt.

You've known many kinds of dust.

The dust of the earth, the dust of books, the dust of bone.

A long life of dust.

Breathe now, Enoch. Draw dust past your withered lips,

Pull it down your throat into your chest.

Breathe deep.

It will not be the same, you know.

You reach out your hand now. You smooth it

over wood.

When the walk ends, you will reach out again,

And from your fingers will expand a cascade of stars,

Cosmic dust, burning supernova dust, carving nebula.

You will sit among the black holes, clumped like sand,

Amidst a desert of dark you will seed radiant oases.

Breathe now, Enoch. Soon each breath will draw in

the stuff of angels. An ocean of fire whistling down your throat.

Breathe deep.

You will not miss your wife's songs, when there are incandescent choirs.

You will not miss water when you can drink from photon fountains.

You will not miss your books when you can read the text beneath creation.

But when all the deserts of the world are like a mote tickling against your skin,

You will miss the way your lungs tighten.

Douglas Murphy. 

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