Omicron Thursday

Threadsuns 
by Paul Celan
Translated by Pierre Joris 

Threadsuns 
above the grayblack wastes.
A tree- 
high thought 
grasps the light-tone: there are 
still songs to sing beyond 
mankind. 

 … can’t remember exact timeframe details now ... my partner was feeling sick with cold like symptoms … then i … the HomeKit produced a positive result for both of us this morning … 

 … yesterday after a morning of on-line teaching was exhausted … fell into a deep sleep …was lying in a field of packed snow making a snow angel … a cold wind blew over my face … my face felt frozen … the sun was shining strong … a force within me … i desired to reach up to grab the sun … if not the sun herself at least the sun rays … tried reaching up with arms stretching to touch the sky … had done this act hundreds of times & taught others this movement another hundreds of times … yet nothing moved … fingertips screamed “use your heart“ … my heart … how … without even a thought the heart instinctively responded to my yearning and sent needles to thread the sun rays … even the tiniest eye was capable of threading a sun ray … the needles danced sewing and weaving a thread ball of warmth … 

 … my cold feet would surely welcome the warmth … i sought grounding … desperately willing myself to stand, wishing the threads to tangle around my feet … a resistance was greater … i was lying in the debris of my existence … lying on a wondrous blanket of immaculate crust white, floating on ice crystals, face frozen, body revealing expressive seams and creases of trodden paths … i was lying in a shadowless place open to the sky where being can enter into itself … where being can dwell in penitent’s snow … where the only call for action was - to attend … attention was the prayer of the soul …

 … the ball of warmth enveloped my heart and the heart pumped warmth to the face … the left cheek melted … the warmth soothed the ice cheek … the water dripped clear light forming a pool of light … how did water become light … the heartbeat warm breath of light softened the bones of the face into canals of healing … the clear melt waterway of light flowed beyond the ear renewing possibilities … bathing my whole head in warmth … thankfully i sank into the warm light … light as water … water as light … in the beginning was water and light …

 … my eyes opened … it was dark …  no light … no water … just warmth …  enough warmth to feel present … nothing to see … only to feel … closed my eyes entering the inner renaissance … the darkness within, around and beyond would pass … i was sure … … it was up to me to refine some of the ambiguities … to allow a time for clearing … to be found … in being found you find …

::Note:: ... three time in my life a healing dream came ... this was the third time ... i cannot consciously call for a healing dream ... the dream comes when needed ... wonder if we as cats have nine lives ...


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