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I am alive because I know it, I know it because I am alive.
A knowing is a living and a living is a knowing and a knowing is a knowing of living.
The field is green if it is seen.
The star is far if there is a far.
The far is a far because I am here.
Here is the maker of far.
Here is the maker of before and after.
Here is the maker of a world.
I saw the children of the skull burning, burning in the green of the mind,
green in the gold and gold in the green and the green saying gold,
crying not softly and not politely but terribly—
I am, I am, I am.
There is no meadow without a me there.
There is no there there without a me making there.
There is no starry distance without the distance in the living.
There is no time unless time times in the blood.
A clock is not time.
A clock is a clock.
Time is the knowing of a going.
Time is a going gone and a going coming.
Time is a living saying again.
And space is spacing.
Space is the spreading of here around a fear, around a joy, around a name.
Space is the room that a self makes by standing in itself.
A room is not a room if no one rooms in it.
I was happy in the field and the field was happy in me.
Fern hill, skull hill, heart hill.
Grass in the mouth of morning and morning in the mouth of grass.
And then thought struck.
Thought struck and the world struck with it.
Then the barn was a barn and the bird was a bird and the dark was not only dark but waiting.
I know that I am alive.
That is the terrible sentence.
That is the flowering wound.
That is the black horse in the orchard.
That is the gold engine.
That is the howl in the fern and the fern in the howl.
No witness, no world.
No knower, no known.
No singer, no hill.
The hill may be a hill but it is not a hill in the living until the living lives it.
That is what I mean.
I mean it because I am in it and it is in the meaning.
And death, death is not an experience if experience is life.
Death is not a field walked in.
Death is the unfielding.
Death is not a silence heard.
Death is the unsinger.
Death is not a darkness seen.
Death is the closing of seeing.
So let me say it again because saying again is saying and saying is making:
I am alive and the world opens.
I am alive and time begins to bleed.
I am alive and space grows petals around the cry.
I am alive and the stars become distance and the distance becomes grief and the grief becomes song.
A repetition is not a repetition if it is more itself each time.
I am.
I am alive.
I am alive and knowing it.
I am knowing it and alive.
I am I am in the green gold burning of it.
And when I am no longer saying it, who says the saying stays?
Perhaps the hills wait for the teller.
Perhaps the light waits for the eye.
Perhaps the world is worlding only where aliveness flowers into knowing.
So I say it hard.
I say it green.
I say it broken and blazing.
I am alive.
I know I am alive.
And that knowing is the world.
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