[WIP] With flowering grasses and fields / Shadowing Domesday lines...

The Layers
Stanley Kunitz


I have walked through many lives, some of them my own,
and I am not who I was,
though some principle of being
abides, from which I struggle
not to stray.
When I look behind,
as I am compelled to look
before I can gather strength
to proceed on my journey,
I see the milestones dwindling
toward the horizon
and the slow fires trailing
from the abandoned camp-sites,
over which scavenger angels
wheel on heavy wings.
Oh, I have made myself a tribe
out of my true affections,
and my tribe is scattered!
How shall the heart be reconciled
to its feast of losses?
In a rising wind
the manic dust of my friends,
those who fell along the way,
bitterly stings my face.
Yet I turn, I turn,
exulting somewhat,
with my will intact to go
wherever I need to go,
and every stone on the road
precious to me.
In my darkest night,
when the moon was covered
and I roamed through wreckage,
a nimbus-clouded voice
directed me:
'Live in the layers,
not on the litter.'
Though I lack the art
to decipher it,
no doubt the next chapter
in my book of transformations
is already written.
I am not done with my changes.

Dream Archives

"I'm trying to speak to you in your dreams. Can you hear me calling out to you, animal to animal?"


Book I
Book II
Book III
Book IV
Books V, VI, VII

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This art was created in 2019-20, at the beginning of the trauma that would lead to my eventual CPTSD. I have been an artist all my life, but only after that first, most devastating breakdown did I feel the suffering intense enough to divert into obsessive production of art: painting, writing, poetry; along with many less healthy outpourings.

Poetry Archives

'Wandering between two worlds, one dead,
The other powerless to be born
With nowhere yet to cast my head.'

Matthew Arnolds

about me and essays