Creature in My Corner

there is an understanding that stirs in my corner
never a creature of destruction, it is not frightening
but for the weight of what it seems to know.

silence is its first language
and of this I am a slow study.

we once knew each other more closely
it is somehting of a shadow of myself
cast long ago and elsewhere

its presence excites in me
a desire for preparation
tidy my mind so it might find itself at home

but I've mistook its intention.
it waits, and always watches
to hear me tell the secret
I do not know how to tell

a stupid man, I want to rage
to pile my words
my scribblings and rants
my parable and my gospels
at its feet
for a burning.

i want to hold the soot to its eyes
squeeze it out in clouds
make known I'm a destroyer of ideas

a marauder
I will parade the transience of my other work

but the understanding in my corner is no meager lesson
nor a verse for remembering

it is a sentinel of livelihood,
a medium for the traffic between souls

the ears with which you listen to the ocean's
crashing in your neighbor
and the eyes through which you glimpse your place
amongst infinity

my tantrum does little
but illuminate the nobility of its stillness

daily it opens its mouth
the inhale makes me hopeful

but always it pauses
holds its breath and settles again,
to its place, quiet in my corner.