L.R. Harvey Poetry

POSSIBLE DIVINE RESPONSE Considering you say that it's the sun   which sets, then merrily conclude it once again has deigned to change its mind,  I’m not surprised. Considering  that yesterday you panicked in  the supermarket parking spot when  the lady next to you reversed, assumed that you were rolling, I'm anything but taken aback.  Or how about the countless times you're momentarily convinced t he moon is falling when clouds go by ?   My point is not to shame your many   misperceptions, but just to tell you  that, first and foremost, I forgive you. Secondly, be reassured                                              I’ve never moved.

HOLY MOUNTAIN And having tendered us a brief  excursion on the borders of  the land, You surely understand what in itself now borders an obsession to ascend a little further yet, a little further still.  What few find fit to hazard such a perilous ascent—much less descend once having ventured up—bring little in the form of  evidence for those inclined to  know before they dare to go   themselves. What few find fit to  hazard such a perilous ascent can only testify, if be it in a certain enigmatic mirth,  that yes you can, despite the nature of the climb, despite the fact                               you climb alone.

SLOW ASCENT And grown enamored with the ripples of                 the firmament,                                              the fractured images of mountaintops where morning's breaking                on the peaks,                                              you'll likely pass a pilgrim face-down in a puddle—cold, dissatisfied,                and clearly not                                              at the heavens advertised.  Take note and...

ROAD ADVICE The principle is keep on walking  even when you don’t believe you’re getting  there, or even when you're not quite sure that there exists. Take note of how the ancients pilgrimaged in packs, were wise enough to understand a blazer rarely made it there alive. Consider that the hardest part is leaving, or that  the hardest part is somewhere in  the dusty middle, or how it’s all, in  fact, the hardest part until we reach the place. Wrap up your weary feet and bring a stick, but maybe most  importantly, don’t ever think that  any road eventually will get you there, so bring a map  that’s guided others. Oh, and always keep in mind that any shadows of a doubt you venture through, per nature of reality, must be cast from some- where with a light— so no, you're not insane.

ECCLESIASTICAL AUTOIMMUNE DISORDER We know, per modern medicine,  the way a body can attack itself in  what it deems a valorous attempt to mitigate what it perceives as an offending member. We know, per modern medicine, that such behavior is disastrous left unchecked, results in desecration of the body at its own hands. We know that such  occurrences require help from both  a doctor and a friend: The one to see us through our temporary suffering, the other to provide a lasting cure.

  FRIDAY AFTERNOON Something's scared the leaves, and now  they’re sprinting helter-skelter down  the street. My dog is slightly agitated, either at the leaves or maybe that  which scared the leaves, but who can rightly say? The point to take away is that the world’s running like a racing pulse, running like someone’s breathing down our necks, and hopefully that's the case and that soon                                         He'll catch us.

BEHIND THE CURTAIN Our Bodiless Conspiracy, we've been  your advocates a while now, have even gone, at certain times, against our better  judgement in defending such a far- fetched plausibility. Observe the facts , they sneer, and really they’re correct in that the facts don’t add up to You, but then the facts alone don’t actually arrive at anything convincingly conclusive. As such, we're here—if not without a shadow of a doubt— here: C onvinced there's some thing more, further convinced that it's running everything, beyond that, quite incapable of sufficiently proving it per fact or data set. You sent a body for that.