Apollo, Passage
 

You are one of the rare, luminous minds
The luminous, playful and alive
The living, vibrant and curious course
a light-tongue comic with curio-mind.

You are the mystic joker,
drifting, endless listener
an effervescent, corroding force--
the quiet and comic
the comic and gentle,
that quiet, infinite light. 

I see you in all things.

The constant, shifting overlay.
The dancing, endless rush.
The sweet, sweet silent brush.
The movement of idea and form.
The movement of body and space.
                          Apollo on high
                                       —and on the flipside,
                                                                  drifting, ever drifting. 

As we are cut loose into the file,
The idea of never having a Coke with you
is an effervescent, corroding force;
a choke-weight plunge
            of freezing force,
                        the welling of anxious, anxious restraint. 

In this,
The substance of me dissolves into a fading draft.
The substance of me dissolves into intangible space.
The substance of me dissolves. 

The fleeting, precious.
The transient, vital.
The precious, maybe-permanent.
The permanent, maybe-precious. 

And goddammit—it aches. 

I missed you the instant you passed the gallery windows,
a hole left in the space between spaces
a profound hole left by vital extraction:
The vital, endearingly necessary …displaced. 

You are a force.
The recovery of the lost and reframed.
The vitality of strength, gentle and curious.
The vital, beautiful moment of connection--
The beautiful, naive abstract
who moves, glistens and falls. 

I see you in all things. 

 

-Ren Adams, 2015

Back to Last Days