Pasternak Time: “Life herself comes about”
Life herself comes about,
The messages scramble to keep up.
Once upon a time solitary for a while,
Impossible not to see
Every existence is wonder –
He was a light-hearted, serious young man.
Miracles are the vast trees against the blue,
Trains riding over the hillsides,
The healing silence and their faces.
It was his to sort through until he found
It is only his for now,
It is not his.
This someone, he enters trying to say how
We are told there will be defeat,
So when there is defeat
They were not always exactly to blame
Who came to take him down.
Only when empty again
He raced to put the words in order
Knowing it can never be enough.
It is too late, it is not his.
It is not ours,
But we read
Angry, at the last fearless words,
Entry after entry.
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