PREPARE THYSELF
Missive #26 - Transcribed Poetic Dictation
[This missive arrived while sitting in the passenger seat, on my way to see beloved ones — hallowing space for community, for joy, for grief, for the finding of treasures in unexpected places. Now I am home, with my computer, and can share this transcribed dictation with you all. The pieces are falling into perfect positioning for the most perfect, most beautiful mosaic that has ever not been imagined. We must allow ourselves to fall, and to land, where we are falling towards. Do not mind the fall of others. Pay close attention to your own falling. We are falling with each other. Unless we each fall perfectly, the mosaic will not be complete. We cannot fall but perfectly. Pray — let this mosaic be complete. Pray — let our actions, inactions, proceed perfectly to the place our prophecies promise.] Received 11/11/2023 | ~3-3:30pm
Listen to the Recitation:
PREPARE THYSELF
Paring down, whittling away
All that is not needed now
To understand that, yes
More will be taken from you
More will be given up by you
Until nothing is left to cut
Away, until nothing is left to
Take from what cannot hold
Anything even, to begin with.
Nothing can be held onto
That is not first unpaired
Slicing leaves out of pears
Stolen from your neighbors'
Trees, branches heavy, fruit
Falling to the ground, going
To waste; nothing goes to waste
It is all reclaimed and replaced
In and by the earth. Nothing
Is lost, nor ever truly forgotten.
This is not a curse. Do not bear
It as such. This is a fine pairing
Like a custom made wedding
Band, fit to you and no one
Else, flaked in bark and diamonds
Dripping in solar dust, to dust
Remained, remaimed. Condense
The dust to dirt, the dirt to bones
The bones to flesh, the flesh to
Famine, the famine to festival,
The festival to fantasy, the
Fantasy to failure, the failure
To fulfillment, the fulfilament
Of one's nothingness, glowing
In a delicate glass cage, ready
To pop, to shatter into a million
Ten thousand pieces, rainbow
Hued and falling into perfect
Positioning to be soldered into a
Stained glass mosaic, of Ezekiel's
Prayer for peace. Peace does not
Look like what you think it does.
Peace is a place where nothing
Happens. The Happening. Happy
Haps upon a perilous precipice;
That which happens is exclusively
Positive. The ominous has no weight
To it, no gravity to hold you down,
Nor anyone else. Allow what happens
To happen to you, to happen upon
You, the subject and object of all
Happening, of all happenstance
Haphazard and wily, whiling as it
Pares away, the small substance
Of glittering sapphire soulstuff
Which might just be something
Worth saving, worth clearing up
And exposing, bare, to the world
Which seems rabid, baring its teeth
Jaws dripping, salivating for the soul
As if to gnaw, to rip apart and destroy—
This trial is what defines us, where
The substance of our ourness
Finds its definition in the difference
Between what we expect and what
Happens to us, in our ripe expecting
We are but 5 short months to the birth
And this birth will be the death of
All that must die, and will be the call
To wake, to get out of bed, fully
Awake, lucid, clear, all at once
Present at tension, at ease, like
This was the way you were always
Meant to be, so naturally, poised
To move, to sing, to dance, to lull
From point to point, extension and
Retention, release and reception
The audience is the stage, and
The great work is the actor, and
The hall is the house, what had
Crumbled down now holds firm,
Firmament suspended, with so many
Stars beaming down upon, and
From, so many beaming faces, flying
Up from the seats of their souls
Bringing fresh air, clean water
To the spirit of this whole endeavor
Readily given, readily consumed,
All free, with no need for further
Liberation. The thirst is quenched
The lungs are filled and emptied,
The belly is warmed, and rounded,
And emptied. The heart is pumped,
And filled, and emptied. A smile
Lights upon the face. A smile.
Hard won, and soft around the edges.
