change in twinkledom

Jesus said it, “We shall all be changed, in a moment, in a twinkling of an eye” (I Corinthians XV 51-52)

So, it’s official, then.

The stream of change, Heraclitus’ bed-mate: flux.

Once Jesus said it, once Heraclitus said it–Change— who am I to add on? Need I blog about change, when the light is doing a much better job expostulating on it through the eastern window, just behind me?   It’s as necessary as saying our faux-prez GWB must have been home sick with the chicken[-out-on-responsibility-]pox on the days geography was taught.  Thanks, Sara Nolan– you really have a way of pointing things out.

Change never graduates to callous status.

(Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-changes…Oh give it to me, David Bowie!– all those ch’s were hard to tally– can anyone cross-check me?)  What about the things that never dull?  To which our heart cannot grow accustomed, and yet by which it must choicelessly abide?  Against which and into which it must love?

My plants have some perennial wisdom to add.  The leaves are yellowing quickly.  The jade plant in my room committed suicide over the last two months, to my despair.  I tried, really.  I stooped to new levels of groveling, stroking, etc.  The plant wanted its way.  Death is bad feng shui, sure, but keeping it in the room is also a lesson of; there is plenty we (I) cannot change, even while change romps on all around us.  That everyone and everything happens to die just happens to be one of those utterly inconvenient “facts” of life.  Keeping company with “the birds and the bees” — fauna which might resent their widespread figurative usage, seeing as they may not have any more or less sex than your average (un)married couple–  Average, I said.  But what would Jesus say?

Meaning to write a paper on the compact force of the image in Ezra pound, I wind up taking a mental walk through a shifting atmosphere.  Thunder is rumbling outside; god(dess)’s belly is hungry for a watery deluge.

Please tell me; what is change?  Have you noticed the twinkles in your own eyes?


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One Response to “change in twinkledom”

  1. Jamie Says:

    Only the rocks last forever. But…

    In New York change is in high demand. Spare change? Got some change? I could really use some change… nobody wants change more than the street denizens of NYC. I digress.

    How can change be anything if everything changes? Witgenstein might call this a linguistic problem that is really no problem at all. It is only a problem of words and when de-languaged the question disappears. Or perhaps this is not the case at all…

    I think change might be what happens when you close your eyes. Blink. Twinkling.

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