Kyrie Eleison (III)
I wake – Wednesday –
among the lost:
those from the first beginning,
those lost today,
the unborn, already numbered,
awaiting their vanishing
Closest:
Anna, my wildwife,
Kim the greyhound,
Izzi, Gunwald –
Judith, Sirkka, Sune –
the near and the long-lost,
gathered into the same diminishing
All beings converge –
all times here,
all places now –
and the kyrie eleison of all
rises unheard
through the weave of life
as I descend
into the kitchen
prepare the morning rite,
cats at my legs –
Silver, Cesi –
and thought-fragments,
carbonated,
disordered,
seethe
within the skull’s shelter
Poetry by Ingvar Loco Nordin
Written on 2026-03-18 at 10:31
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