The Gifts of Trauma V

Must’ve been forces
that took me on them wild courses
Who knows how many poses
that I’ve been in
But them the main closest,
hark! It gives meaning mine
I cannot really post this,
ah, feel the signs.
I worried ’bout rain
and I worried bout lightning
but I watched them off
to the light of the morning
Marking the slope,
slung low in the highlands
(Where the days have no numbers)
If it’s harmed me,
it’s harmed me.
It’ll harm me.
I let it in.

Oh, the old modus:
out to be leading live,
said (comes the old ponens)
“demit to strive”.
A word about Gnosis:
it ain’t gonna buy the groceries,
or middle-out locusts,
or weigh to find.
I hurry ’bout shame
and I worry ’bout a worn path
and I wander off,
just to come back home
turning to waltz,
hold high in the lowlands
(‘Cause the days have no numbers)
It harms me,
it harms me,
it harms me
like a lamb

So I can depose this,
partial to the bleeding vine.
Suppose you can’t hold shit;
how high I’ve been.
What a river don’t know is
to climb out and heed a line
or to slow among roses
or stay behind
I’ve been to that grove,
where no matter the Source is;
and I walked it off,
how long I’d last.
Sore-ring to cope,
whole band on the canyon
(when the days have no number).
It harms me.
It harms me.
It harms me.
I’ll let it in.

~ Bon Iver, “00000 Million” (2016)

[Art: Andy Kehoe]

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