HERON II
The world is dark and without form.
Not without sensation. There is
a constant whirring noise, low, as
though there is a distant storm.
There is the sensation of black and
dark blue. The ocean at night.
It might be healed by the orange of
the sun, but not yet.
And the world was without form,
and darkness was on the face of
what was yet without form.
In the deep. Black and dark blue.
4am.
I can't keep describing the
lack of things forever. At some point
something has to happen. At some point
I notice that the tide has gone out
slightly and there is a visible rock
that was not there before. Not that
rocks are easy to distinguish from
everything else that's black and blue
but it's visibly black and a slippery
thing, covered in seaweed and pools of
a viscous substance known as water.
Maybe there is sand in the pools too.
The wind is cold. The sky is dark.
4am.
Something comes along. There is a
figure on the rock. At this distance
it's impossible to identify what bird
it is. It's large, and whitish, with
a long neck and some other long features.
It is probably a heron by the looks of
it but maybe the rock is closer than we
think and it's actually a very small bird.
Though the long neck seems to indicate heron.
This is the dark; this is the place where
all of the seaweed has gone to die and nothing
nothing nothing serves to change or to provide
an example to anyone or anything. Nothing
can be known and nothing can be worth knowing.
These are the tides of the river Lethe, the
water that one drinks when one wants to be
scraped clean on the inside.
4am.
The tide recedes. The heron speaks.
*
"This is the song that covers the world. This
is the song that has been chosen to link things
with things. When the song is sung the first time,
the composite sensorium that is seen and felt
by the listener at the time of hearing the song
is recorded, as it were, to be played back when
the song is heard again, or sung again, sung
probably being the better word.
Through the song things are linked
to other things, future to past, traditions of thought,
an idea of our collective sensation and attention,
our bodies, our memories. We exist in collective memory;
without others to describe our experiences to
we would be unable to form convincing explanations for these
experiences. Or at least none that would convince me.
And every day the song is renewed in the collective work
of our attempts to describe experiences to one another.
We all know that we have had certain experiences and we try
to link these experiences to things that are happening in the
song. Not entirely successfully; no song can ever describe
all the things you need to be thinking about. Your situation
may never have previously occurred and so there may be many
notions where their absence in your calculation might
mean you draw the wrong conclusion. But whatever.
The song is renewed as we continue to sing it and as we
remember our souls when we first heard the song."
*
Well said. And you can get -all that- from the squawking noise
the heron makes, if you listen carefully. It's not even sped up.
That's just the sort of thing they have words for in heron-language.
The tide recedes, the darkness softens as the heron says its word again.
***