MS (8.4.1929 / Marton, Lancashire)

0031 Beyond The Bounds

Oh it’s there, alright
and very much all right
although ‘there’ is not at all the word
for where it is – or isn’t –

all I can say is,
it’s ‘beyond’ –
beyond all the knowledge I’ve acquired,
beyond the life I love to live,
beyond the happiest of happiness..

I used to fear ‘beyond’, to fear
the boundlessness –
and yet, between
(and somehow, the between
and the beyond seem real good friends) –
between the thoughts –
the thoughts of what I want, or don’t,
the things I want, the things I don’t, then
in the stillness and the silence
which I used to shout ‘boring! ’ at
and run away and play –
it calls, it yearns; the boundlessness
speaks as familiar as myself

oh it’s 'there' all right –
how could I know, unless
they were together linked in inner sight –
the bounded and the boundlessness?

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Comments (1)

Oh Michael, Yes, yes, yes. I love your beyond and your boundlessness and your betweenness. I love your soul that shines between and beyond the words of this poem, you dear, dear man.