Poem of the Day, March 12
is there something down
by the water keeping itself from us?
by Ewa Chrusciel
We are woven of minuscule desires. They swirl in myriad wakes like minnows. If you think how many niches, crevices, rocks they could inhabit. On Valentine you borrowed a tulip from somebody else. I ate it. I only pretended to be crazy. Now I pretend to be normal. Or it’s always rather a decision. You said not even grass has such thin hair. After that kissing was much more fiery. Can our lives still cross through the remote thinking? When you pass by with her, you say it’s cold. Now that you are married. I am just on the other side of the mirror. Horror vacui. Everything preserved under the glass wall. What illness springs from the lost place? Places are extensions of the people. I count everything in Polish. In a certain sense I did commit suicide in order to live. I prefer reason. It’s a sacrifice of the immediate. Swinging causes too much sea-sickness. You cannot take it all. Important is to offer. Sacrifice does not kill but preserve – make it holy. Until wings turn into a cross. However noble, if we do things only on our own, we are the enemies of grace. Odysseus was noble. Nevertheless Dante put him in hell, precisely for that reason. Hell is based on justice and law. Heaven is based on grace. Nobody deserves it.
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