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Objective Correlative
You are supposed to feel
the weight of a dry leaf
pressing upon the pavement
or a wet kiss
on the back of the mind
you should sense
that your name is anchored
to the earth you walk on
the sight of a eucalyptus
bending in the wind
should catapult you back
to the other side of the world
and the twenty-fifth year
of your life
the alchemy of indecision
should make of you
an undiscovered creature living in a catalog
of rearranged and tainted ages
where the symbols of becoming
slowly glow and slowly darken
as the cobalt greens
escape the reds
and lift you up
into an open vault
of neverending possibility.
You may perform rituals
to invoke the dreams
you long for
the ones in which
the triumphant formulas
are hidden
the ones that make you
a dreamer awake
conducting your own symphony
invented as you go along
perhaps you will see yourself
bending over the source
of a great river
filling your cup
from a trickle of water
perhaps the right word
will open the door
to the room you once
were afraid to look into
and you will see
all the pain in the world
dissolving in a pool
of white light.
You are meant to recall
the agony of separation
the ineffable presence
of loneliness
recreated at a glance
you are supposed to return
again and again
to the very thing
you will never understand
that miles of mythic fabric
will never cover
you are tempted to know it
from a number of angles
to make of your reflection
the object of mystery
the beginning and end
of a prismatic journey
to a very distant
hall of mirrors
where at last you may
see yourself inside the phrase
that turns the music
into footsteps
that start you
on your long march back
to the place where
the miracle was invented.
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