The Ancient Modern

To Thusness  /  Joshua Alan Sturgill     

I never see the sunset. 
Between us are a thousand walls. 
But I know the Sun
as just outside my knowing,
as rising from a dream: ripe fruit, 

dark bowl, blue cloth. 
Not the lenses everywhere, but
someone Else brings the wine
before I know to need it,
as just outside my desiring. 

I would pray to Light,
but gratitude is dispersed
by the thousand lenses between us
watching greedily without
eyes, without compassion.

Instead, I pray to the Invisible,
to the wine-giver, to must-be,
to Thusness — prayer as a cough
just outside my dying: awake,
gasping, as rising from a dream

All poetry and supplementary material: copyright 2023 by Joshua Alan Sturgill. All rights reserved.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s