Wednesday, March 23, 2011

What Happens Again


I’ve seen it before:
an old building
comes down,
but the sky
doesn’t rush in
to take its place.

A loved one dies,
but I can still
see the lines
on his face.

I can count
the bricks
that were there,
feel the warmth
in his hands.

Desire lingers
in a doorway
where light
never ends.

What happens
happens again:
places we’ve been,
people we’ve known,
dreams we are in.

From Songs and Letters, originally published November 18, 2005.

4 comments:

erin said...

perhaps once we have punched through the veil into being we can not be undone?

love how the sky does not rush in. you are causing me to believe that even our energy occupies space, not just our bodies. wonderful.

xo
erin

William Michaelian said...

Thanks, Erin. It seems, too, that we’re here even before we arrive, whether we recognize and remember it or not.

Wait — I’m sorry. That almost sounds like it means something.

rahina q.h. said...

feeling like a spinning top... ah forgot, that's the earth and i'm clingling on for dear life... this poem contains images which to my reading, are personal to you, almost to the exclusion of the reader... just a first reflection William

William Michaelian said...

Almost as if you’ve overheard me talking to myself. Interesting.