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.

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