Saturday, August 24, 2019

Every Poem Is Made of Time



Ravished stone of grave markers,  hundreds of Chinese graves
Dating back nearly two hundred years to the beginning
Of the Chinese arrival in Hilo.
The bright red paint of the shrine
And the jade green porcelain of the roof of this memorial,
Encased in glass that reflects the graveyard and myself.

Many times I have seen my reflection shift and disappear
In those windows that sparkle like pools of silver
As I melted away,
Knowing everything is made of time.

This poem is made of time
It smolders with the time it took to write
And the time that it takes to read.
Wind over the cemetery hill brings the fire to life
For a while being as it toys with names
And the Nameless,
Before its spark catches fire
And it is devoured by flames,
Burnt to ashes and resolved to grass.

I leave myself behind
And walk on carefully following my breath,
Taking note of the fire that smolders within me,
Knowing that I am my own hard death
And my own hard re-birth
But still have another poem to write
That will take time but complete this circle. 

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Greetings, My name is Jon Landon. I am a native of the San Francisco Bay Area. I I can write everything from Poetry to Technical Writing, I am a UC Berkeley Alumni ('88)