26 June 2007 | Vol. 7, No. 2

Eternity of the Sentence

i.


Today is eleven days, which are one week and four days, of the Omer.


Because he has no arrow he uses his body as a bow,


laying back and pressing his toes against string.




This morning the boys are peeing together. Jacob steps closer to kiss his brother's cheek.


Benjamin steps away, irritated, pees all over the bathroom floor.



I should write to you more briefly, you of the many busy


and valuable concentrated forms.


I am drawn and can only resist so long.


making myself the impetus to fly.



If you love the sky as you become vastness, blue is no longer


a color separate from expanse. You have only to remember


to enter this aerial sanctuary.


I should be sorry to transport myself so carelessly.


Yet I am too shy and mistake myself any other way


for the speed which compels me to ask.


Do I forgive myself the questions I become?



ii.


Mostly when I enter is intense pleasure as if someone


were holding a burning herb almost touching the third eye.


In what sense are these devices irrelevant to an imageless being,


to dropping the pebble of thought? If sensation itself is a pleasure


which comes with asking is it incorrect to cultivate such light?


To recall the infinite space behind the eyes.




To avoid stepping upon the sacred


Is this the task to be imagined by the celebrant


From this interior where even silence skips


I rephrase my questions as if they were children



Is there a word for the invisible emanations which visit the quieted form?


Do the four worlds move in the direction of a core interior?


Are the four directions found through stillness and through movement?


Is the central channel of the nervous system ascending to crown


as well as descending to a dream below the ground?


Is the movement up, down and across the ladder we speak of?


And when are we to know in which direction we are moving?


My inclination is to insist upon your nearness.


Is your body one question amid a garden of questions?


Do you look up and see we do inhabit a garden?

About the author:

Laynie Browne's most recent books are Drawing of a Swan Before Memory and Daily Sonnets. Forthcoming is The Scented Fox (Wave Books, 2007). The poems here from "Wave Offering" are based on the Jewish practice of counting the days of the Omer, each day representing a combination of two sephirotic qualities.

For further reading:

See the complete list of work by Laynie Browne at 42opus. Browse the contents of 42opus Vol. 7, No. 2, where "Eternity of the Sentence" ran on June 26, 2007. List other work with these same labels: poetry.

42opus is an online magazine of the literary arts.

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