Psalm 40

you weave forgotten threads, those I casually brush aside
(as if they were the burden of some other) with your own
particular thread; deeper & more passionate than memory
which you pull, like serpents, from the mystery of our being
to weave, weave; till my tiny set-apart life ignites in a wilderness
of language, & I, thy solitary man… consummate in flame

Kevin Moran 11/10/10

Whakapapa: I wrote this psalm after I dreamt a woman came and stole my black & grey & white squared Swanndri and burnt it. I tried to stop her but she persisted until it was reduced to fiery ash. I was very angry and upset. I tried to stop her by hitting her. I took the dream as an indication that my masculine, black & white & grey squared thinking was being challenged & burnt to ash by the deeper, more passionate, more feminine, more intuitive levels of my soul.

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