Drops of Matter

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DROPS OF MATTER

We struggle from the port of catastrophe

Across the underside of presence,

Returning to seek affinity in the world

Like the overflowing dead

Who lay out their affairs

In the zone of pre-life memory.

We bathe curves of correspondence in visions.

We form fluidity at the same time as cohesion.

We say that all form is held between bodies,

Where drops of matter resolve and fall

Over lines and surfaces and contours,

Momentary centres of the world.

DROPS OF SOUL

Young children and the dying

Have pre-life memory,

Spontaneous and unmixed,

Set in motion by drops of soul

Folded into matter

That rub up against one another.

A succession of deepest shock

Unleashes shapes of memory curvature

That stretch into the organic world

Through small oscillations in the soul.

An animal of her exact genetic curve

Passes from one body to another.

Blessed and damned by innovation,

We place ourselves in affinities

To see the substance of possible worlds.

At her limit, what is clear consists of holes

That give her right of way to bend,

To stumble, and plunge to the obscure.

Affinity rays shadow the curvatures

Into her cavernous subtle interior.

DROPS OF FORM

We must cast a figure from us

Over the high crest of obscurity,

Though what form can be recognised?

Veil of being, ceramic wave,

Canvas both open and cloaked.

The curvature bobbing in space

Becomes a body adorned with drops of form

Capable of setting it billowing before us.

With reason but without conclusion,

Our mind drapes the form in matter

To render how it combines and participates,

The way it reaches itself from near and far,

How it transforms the obscure relationship

Into the particular figure, curved to presence,

Collapsed to the cast,

And through.

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