Sun, Gull, and Jellyfish

Evening sun

 

The last evening sun

gathers itself to become a drop,

more drops, many, many.

A storing and a charging takes place.

The cocoons are being shaped by the drops

out by the coast, and they can be seen

just by

squinting.

They come floating

like diving bells

but in the air.

Until they, with a few pauses,

stop, and almost crash down

to break the surface of the water.

A lot of them, almost all of them

should be left alone.

They are in the middle of processes

that do not concern humans.

They are situated somewhere

between resin and amber.

In a borderland with a different time.

And once in a while you are, yourself

within one of them.

It is cause for such a refreshing twitch inside me

when I land one morning

from a nightly chute

after having been inside

one of them.

 

During other mornings

a certain workforce

seem to be quite spent

but how and why

is quickly being covered

by heavy, black drapes.

The day always starts

with a specific fauna and flora

which is not up for discussion.

It makes it so wildly harmonic.

There is a new kind of graffiti in town

The unforeseen can be

the pigeon glimpsed in the corner of the eye

which has never been a pigeon

but a much larger gull

who is now looking up

and his what-do-you-want-gaze

in the middle of the pedestrian street.

The gulls are overtaking the town.

They have learned something new about the humans

and the ideas of monopoly

that are truly crumbling,

no, they are actually already long gone.

I recognize the anger in the gull’s eye.

Want to translate it.

Jellyfish

It is said that jellyfish do not have brains

but a lot is being said. I have noticed that

some people seem to brush their consciousness about the world

with long monologues, a sort of serpentines which on a regular basis

is being blown out like tunnel spirals. Through them those ghosts

they cling to in theory, in practice, run.

 

Perhaps jellyfish are a type of brains in themselves floating around

in the ocean to protect the breath in the water and then release it,

when some teeny-weeny fish really needs it.


RUNE KJÆR RASMUSSEN

Rune Kjær Rasmussen is an animist, writer, singer, and occasional painter from Denmark.

Previous
Previous

Pool yourself together: Sufficiency and interdependence in the wake of a degrowth future

Next
Next

Four Seeds In A Row...