Lebens(t)raum
I hear their voices,
the voices of the dead and departed,
whose energies have withdrawn
from the ten thousand things
into the generative substrate
of the All;
the syncopated musicality
of their voices;
the oracular cadence
of their utterances
rising through the gaps of memory;
a shrill summons
out of oblivion:
the resonances of voices,
a forest of strings
in the mist:
violin, viola,
violoncello, double bass:
Judy, Dellaree, Sirkka,
Sister, Mother, Father,
Kjellström, Guido, Karlheinz,
Folke, Bruno;
their calling,
their relinquishing;
the tonnage of tonalities
in the dimness above the Styx:
their flickering presences,
their emptied Lebens(t)raum:
the calligraphic elegance
of a delicate laconic hand
upon the fragile age
of rice paper
Poetry by Ingvar Loco Nordin
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Written on 2026-08-06 at 10:29
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