རྟིན་འབྱུང
Trenjung: A Journal of Interconnections
It is a strange thing -as I guess all things sufficiently thought about are- that we are given these platforms capable of reaching so many, and yet we so often do not do so well in listening to each other, and the ones we do listen to, the ones followed by so many, are equally so often not worthy of the great reach of voice they have been given...Or maybe I am just talking to myself, consoling myself that essentially I am in fact just talking to myself, somewhere in the attic of my mind, down a forgotten corridor, through a secret door, behind a false wall in a little confessional room with a wonderfully small window in it looking out on forever... Certainly I am a bit mad to think this rediscovered collection of old poetry is worth sharing. But I had such fun, reading it aloud again, closing my eyes and remembering the coffee shops and bookstores where I tried on the voice and demeanor of "Poet." My hair at least back then played the part well! But here, oh mysterious one (or two or conceivably three) have a look and hopefully a chuckle. Verse lives on, and sometimes I think the mystery of time is just that, it is all dictated by rhyme and meter and tripping lilting flat on your face falling or lack thereof.
