Clinamen (Swerve)

Straight lines bend,
like the supple willow branch;
even light can bend around a corner
and the voice in song
can, in the right conditions,
pierce the equanimity of the soul.

A passing thought might lead to an idea,
or it might land to resting point,
or even dissipate
into a cloud,
perhaps to reappear
—  though maybe not —
or reform in re-emergences
symbiotic with certain concurrent vibrations.

Being arises,
blossoming forth
from omnipresence
in unique expressions
based on exposure with
any surrounding elements;
attraction to certain resonances
or even repulsions,
conversions and distractions
divert every linear trajectory.

Continuity,
shaped by chance encounters
along the omnizon
with any resonant factor,
might follow a path
or diverge.

Differentiation
need not be disorienting;
every voice finds a place in the choir,
and while yet singular,
can by agreement
coalesce harmoniously
in a timely flow of momentarily
cascading resonances
punctuated by titillating,
even thought provoking, dissonance.

Each and every pathway leads,
whether blazed or followed,
divined or diverted,
elemental in its own way;
the traveler experiences
a full and varied range of
compliance or resistance,
from and with, betwixt and between,
toward eventual results that,
on one hand,
resolve to known
quantities, weights, measures
and tonalities,
though on the other,
fruitions that may never
accumulate or articulate in such a way
as to be seen, heard, felt or fully known
in the open-work of space and time. 

© 2018 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen

This is somewhat in memory of Dixon Adams ("Uncle Dodds"), that late, great book pusher, who would be tickled to know that I have found myself on a pathway through western classics, his specialty. A Lucretian/Epicurian martini of thought, blended with a whiff of Antonio Negri and Gilles Deleuze... 

Unexpected Rains I

They drifted in swiftly,
clouds, full and black,
giving up as much rain
as stored in their silver coffers,
a solemn offering,
a duty and service
to any valley, plain or hill
they encounter on this,
their journey that never ends.

© 2011 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen

Oceans and Nights

Over the oceans of blue,

the reflected azure of night
draws an expectant sigh;

stars seem like a map
to places unknown,
ideas untested,
dreamscapes
abroad.

Star
radiance
draws the eye
no differently now
than in the millions
of years of observance
and ritual tracing of sky
within the mind of humankind.

Moonlit skies lead travelers
across the barren deserts
of time and mind and
deep space dreams,
great journeys
into the why
and how.

Believe:
answers
await those
abstract followers,
who strive to arrive at
those weightless keys
that unlock the internal
mysteries of undivided self,
of nothingness and eternity.

© 2010 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen