SANCTUARY.

Blessed is who can unconcernedly find hours, days and years slide soft away.
In health of body and peace of mind, quiet by day.
Sound asleep by night.
Together mixed; sweet recreation.
And innocence, which most does please,
With meditation.

I want to imagine, to hear
To imagine other solitudes even though not mine.
To wait, in silence, not scatter voices.
I want to drown out, not make a house out of my own words.
To be quiet in another throat; other eyes; listen for what it is like there.
Absolute silence!
Allowing uncertainity to drift in the restlessness.
Run like water, pose, repose, then run again.
Holding my breath against the dread.
I want to listen, watch while i'm safe inside my own skin.
I don't want to die not having listened, not having asked...to have a scattered life.

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.
I know the voices dying beneath the music from a farther room.
I have known the eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase.
When alone I spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways.
I have lingered in the chambers of the sea.
With surroundings wreathed with seaweed red and brown.
Till human voices wake me, and I drown.

I wish for strength to force the moment to its crisis.
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed...
Though I have seen my head brought in upon a platter.
I am no prophet- and there's no great matter.
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker.
Would it have been worth while?
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball,
To roll it towards some overwhelming question.
After the sunsets and the storms, the drowns and sprinkled streets...
And this, and so much more?-

I find bliss in solitude.
My heart with pleasure fills and dances with the daffodils.
Yes I know, the thread you have to keep pulling, finding over again,
To follow it back to life...
I know, it's impossible sometimes.
Sigh!