Time on Earth:
—Hearing, for a moment the word underneath all
words, being moved by this knowing, being
dislodged, like a stone being carried up by the
current from underneath a history of sediment,
forgetting where the river opens into the sea, trying
to remember, in geologic time, turning towards the
mountain, walking up it alone, holding onto all this
too tightly; and in the end—as always—learning to
live without it.
__________
S. Kai Lin
Review by Massimo Fantuzzi
Perhaps one morning, walking in an air of glass, / dry, turning around, I will see the miracle accomplished: / the nothingness at my back, the void behind / me, with a drunkard’s terror. / Then, as on a screen, there will spring up / trees, houses, hills in the usual illusion. / But it will be too late; and I will go on silently / among the men who do not turn around, with my secret. (Montale, Forse un mattino)
All in a moment’s knowledge, an instant – a lightning-flash, an insight as clear as true sight. To see underneath, to feel what is behind. To go beyond the flat, given dimensions of perception. A momentary lapse, a time and a place where the fabric of reality is not so tight as to prevent us from wandering past it. I assure you, these are real places, and they can pop up anywhere. The walls are as high as we want them to be, or as our courage allows us to reach.
Review by David A. Goodrum
This poem reminds me that we are shaped by language as we evolve. Words shaped by tectonic plates, rising like magma, both destructive and life-forming.