Oh, this poem, how it touches me to my core! If read openly, it could be about a single lifetime, many lives - the hierarchy of organisms - (the circle of life), or even about reincarnation. Or maybe it's about all these things.
All these things, and all at once!
Yeah, maybe it's about that. . .
And the images - wow, such an earth-shattering beauty they too posses! Artist Denise Nestor flawlessly masquerades as photographer, nearly evading notice that she is actually a more talented than talented "something else." The fact that Nestor rendered these life-like, yet sleepy, possibly even "memento mori" style images with a pencil is simply mind blowing.
I say, I think this might be my faveorite post yet... I say experience it while listening to something - anything by Explosiions In The Sky.
How something is made flesh
no one can say. The buffalo soup
becomes a woman
who sings every day to her horses
or summons another to her private body
saying come, touch, this is how
it begins, the path of a newly born
who, salvaged from other lives and worlds,
will grow to become a woman, a man,
with a heart that never rests,
and the gathered berries,
the wild grapes
enter the body,
which can love,
where nothing created is wasted;
the swallowed grain
takes you through the dreams
of another night,
the deer meat becomes hands
strong enough to work.
But I love most
the white-haired creature
eating green leaves;
the sun shines there
swallowed, showing in her face
taking in all the light,
and in the end
when the shadow from the ground
enters the body and remains,
in the end, you might say,
This is myself
still unknown, still a mystery.