January 5, 2023

Looking at the Wind Moon

Wind wind wind wind wind

Voice over the device intelligible as

English a flattened navigable hybrid mandala

Rain Grass Tree Sky thing thing thing

Of course life force continues

Multiverse options, parallel timelines

Only existing to be frank with each other

Practice saying,

You are dying, we are sad

We will miss you in winter

When everything appears to end

Scene change, sea change—

Sorry, these words aren’t right

Wind wind wind, is to say,

Be

Or, immobile in whatever situation

Look up, look down, look, look, look

You can still look surrounded by pain

Immersed in pain, maybe our boundaries are play

As in,

Going on a trip into the ecstatic body

That way of the young as they wholly look

At wind coming in & going out of a storm

Over the entire rugged, courageous field

A body without borders, made of tiny turtles

All the way down to the very real drain

Where the moment of wind rises wild again.

POEM BY
Qayyum Johnson
ARTWORK BY SUIKO MCCALL

No Trace Continues Endlessly, 2021. Ink on Yupo, 10x10".

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