The Filament of Hope

filament-of-hope
Filament of Hope – © 2021, Patrick Canganelli.

outside the sphere
peering down into a ball of glass
I can see the plight of humanity,
but I gaze too deeply
and I am transported inside
I am and
we are
humanity.
our gaze and
our sounds
bounce around inside
the sphere
unaware of that clan
outside looking in.
but someday my desire to know
ever so much more
will send a filament from my eye,
the gossamer hollow thread
will open the most fleeting glimpse
of all the clan inhabits
if I could but stand there
with my eye affixed
to those beyond my plight
would I then find a way back home
would I know any more
of a greater expanse?
could I speak my words to someone
who could hear?
but instead I am tossed about the sphere
I cannot find
a steady place
to glance again
through the filament,
I can only hope now
my vision was not clouded.
is there a clan
beyond the dome
beyond the stars
beyond the boundary of what we are.
if I could but dream a bigger dream,
then I would start to hope,
and if I whisper in your ear
we could share our glances
through the filament
and plot our way back to
the greatest home—
and Heaven would be its name.

© 2021, Patrick Canganelli, All Rights Reserved.

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One More Step

one-more-step
One More Step – © 2021 Patrick Canganelli.


where was my home
that I left
to come here
and settle in this place,
what music was there,
what beauty surrounded me there
that I was drawn here
instead.

was there sadness?
did we care?

I care.

I care
wherever I stand
wherever I call home.
I stand for everyone
I care for every abandoned soul
and every noble heart

the place from whence I came
did we know
of love
I say ‘yes’
we knew that the glad heart
can sing
and its songs
drown out sorrow and hate.

from wherever I came
from wherever you came
we are here now
together
to share the pain
yes
to share the emptiness
I suppose.

But we are also here to strike up
a new tone.
We came from other dominions
to stand together
to look in each other’s eyes
and see the soul,
to walk on the Commons.
we are not here
to shudder at the outward look of things
I think we traveled far
to get here.
we travelled with hearts and minds
knowing this is now the Common ground.

One more step.
One more lonely brother
One more beloved sister
we will embrace everyone
on the Common ground—
no one to turn back.

We are all here at last.

(written at night, on the eve of Humanity.)

© 2021 Patrick Canganelli, All Rights Reserved.
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I Walk the Earth

The Others
The Others – © 2021 Patrick Canganelli.

I Walk the Earth

how many people have walked the earth?
now I walk
I walk through spaces where others have been
I sense small particles of them as I meander through the streets,
I can hear, though faintly, the small voices left behind in our world
I bow my head
I sense
a low murmur
of my predecessors
I call out
and I know my voice is heard
it answers the call
of past and future
because, of course, someone will walk the streets where I have been

the legacy is astounding
my love grows with each pace
here I am
and here you were
and here others will be
our helices form the great chain
from the first burning sun
to the time when embers grow cold

we can fly through here and now,
and everything that will be—
we have arrived
over and over again
to destinies accomplished and untold
I start my path now
knowing
we will come together
on the highest road
and so now
let us begin.

© 2021 Patrick Canganelli, All Rights Reserved.
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Running Down the Road

country road, Montgomery IN
Rural Road – © 2010 Patrick Canganelli.


Running down the road
long road that it was
how it tired me

catch my breath

great dust of my heels
must it travel past me

wind in the mouth
what a nauseating ear
I think my heart has stopped

ache of breast
how can I think it
can I feel it like the
strain of my calves

what a load to carry me so far

heel of the earth
what have I become

bark in my fingernail
and muddy of throat
why do I speak to the past

must bone and wood
suffer round black orbits

deep wells of timeless youth
find a moldy apple
gripped by my teeth

no muscle in my carriage
physique combated by treading
heels
now send me to Hades
my visit is past welcome
and I am the mat of the earth
once more.

-Excerpted from The Noumena book of poetry by Patrick Canganelli, available on Amazon.

© 2007 Patrick Canganelli. All rights reserved.

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God Is Smiling

a rose in bloom WL Indiana
A Rose – © 2006 P. Canganelli.


so, now

observe the thick rose blossom

peel back each petal,

layer upon layer

your search engenders a heady scent

the softness is a marvelous delicate moment.

eager to continue

you move to the core

and with the petals all gone

what did you expect

but there He is,

God is smiling,

looking

through the layers

of who you have been

and the scented trail you left behind,

we are like the rose

peeled back to the core

God is patiently watching as we arrive.

© 2020 Patrick Canganelli, All Rights Reserved.

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The Spirit Can Soar

Photoshop filter applied for pixelation.
Snowflakes On Us All – © 2018 Patrick Canganelli.


the world is such a sad place
at times
but bright white snowflakes fall on our noses
in the deep of night
do they not?
and with the falling rain
we are renewed.
run around an open field
on a golden autumn day
and tell me
you’ve almost forgotten
the oppressive summer nights.
I know the heart can hurt
but the spirit
can also soar
and ascend to heady mountaintops
the height of the world
can be reached,
the thoughts of despair
can be left behind.
let us run into the ocean spray
let us gather at first light
and sing
of joy
and laughter
and come together
to celebrate what we have—
let us know
the moment of birth
is hope
for a gentle soul,
in the hour
of misery
we can shout
to the far heaven,
a land we dream of—
a great land where we are headed.
bow our heads
and then look up into the shining
white.
let the love in
and it will push out
the saddest times,
and bright white snowflakes will fall
on us all.

© 2020 Patrick Canganelli, All rights reserved.
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Not Just the Snow

not-just-the-snow-has-fallen-wtrppr
Not Just the Snow – © 2020 Patrick Canganelli.

I am going off to war
to a far place.
I have never been
away from my village.
well here I am.
the sun is the same
but nothing else is recognizable.
we have our orders
and we begin to ascend the hillside
we are to engage the enemy—
what enemy?
how can a foe be someone I’ve never seen?
progress is slow
trudging through this incline of rock
and newly fallen snow.
a sharp whistle
rings through the air,
I cannot breathe.
I fall without warning
my legs have left me
I turn to get up
but I cannot
I see my blood pour into the snow
sounds are faint
and
I am growing cold
the air is thin.
I cannot tell you
how I wish I were home
next to the hearth
while you carefully place the trivet.
I try to breathe
my chest gurgles
your beautiful hair
the smell of scones
my brothers charging all around me now
that strange whistle again
a soft thud near me
oh the fragrant tea
if it could warm me now
you’re humming old favorite aires.
why am I here
I forget
did I ever know?
how was our love
not enough?
it was for us.
I cannot keep the tears away
I am thinking of you,
after all
I am here to ‘keep
our way of life’
to shutter you from
the hate
and aggression,
but I have failed,
my day was lost
before I hit the snow
if I could but kiss your face…
instead I see the lights going out
all around me
friends are falling
how will we keep
the world safe
I hear faint crunching boots
but I am weak,
my face is pressed into the cold
at their feet.
will I see you again
my love?
my prayer is whispered
faint swirls of vapor barely escape
my lips,
a quick sip of tea
and I will gather with my fallen comrades.
so when I’m gone,
please keep me in your heart,
for not just the snow has fallen.

© 2020 Patrick Canganelli, All rights reserved.
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Time Has Stopped

� 2006, Patrick Canganelli.
Time Has Stopped – © 2006, Patrick Canganelli.

 

time has stopped
and
the stars of heaven are reflected in the water.
the river is not flowing
it is transformed into a mirror.
but I can peer into its depths
past the surface,
and I see the stars have become mica dust
spilled all through the motionless stream
the stones in the bed are rare clouds
between the sparkles
and
I can no longer discern
where heaven and earth are separated.
I am caught in between
the sky
and the depths,
I feel as if my soul
is a conduit.
I do not want the old mill wheel
to begin again
but I know it will.
soon the momentum in our hearts
will push upon the paddles
upstream
and the mill
will start up again
we will become as grist
speckled with mica
and thrown across the stream.
we, transformed,
will be the
reflection
of the stars
and we will be strewn amongst
the rocks,
there for other timeless travelers
to
marvel at.

© 2020 Patrick Canganelli, All rights reserved.
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The Greater Prize

drawing of a simple light cone
Light Cone – © 2020 Patrick Canganelli.

 

the packets of time
once free flowing
are compressed,
but my life
has purchased a great spoon,
and I will set about to stir
the galling packets
and
play mischief with
the arrow of time,
I will not obey the direction,
or take note of the outcry.
I stir the cauldron
and I am oblivious to the chaos
I will stay outside the light cone
I will inhabit
the vast elsewhere
and I shall
hear eons of music played
all at once
every note that you and I have imagined.
if you wish to run with me,
you must abandon
everything,
then pick up the spoon and give a stir—
watch
the arrows and their muddled vectors
swirl
a great soup
of every instance,
never imagined side by side
but obscured by our
newfound hobby.
there will be a serious comeuppance
but you and I will be unavailable for
the forfeits.
we will have our eyes
on the greater prize.
turn now
walk with me
as we enter paradise.

© 2020 Patrick Canganelli, All rights reserved.
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