from far away countries
with stories of the impossible:
people learning to trust one another
discovering the meaning of
complimentary
And the possibility of value
shared; created.
on the morning of his arrival
i didn't want to move
recalling his steel blue eyes
his long black mane
his hands, from farmer's stock the
nails bitten absent mindedly
as he typed as he listened to my
growing confusion on the monetary system
he once
held my discoveries with the gentleness
of an elder his eyes
laughed
when we let our differences come together.
Our first walk:
10pm in London, around and around
in circles of old trees and fenced parks and
cobblestone streets
I in my frock and he in his torn t-shirt
the nomad working
building an 'impossible' world
one community at a time through the creation
of the most important thing
the exchange the gift the value:
currency
he had almost nothing in his pocket
he sought a different kind of exchange
why spend money on anything
that would line the queen's purse and the banker's rule
he was harsh, critical, stern - even cold
always looking for what would push forward the mission.
he said, i don't really feel.
he spent his life staring at computer screens
creating a code for a world that didn't yet exist.
the first time he rejected me i took it personally
only later
when he held me
stroked my hair and we let ourselves loose time
just for a while did i realise
we all have onion-layers
we went around to the parts of town
where the ordinary people
sought an extraordinary realisation
of creating themselves anew
separate from that City that sucked life and drained
away integrity from the lands of peat and oak.
why had people stopped using the lewes pound?
they said what we already knew:
novelty rarely creates lasting value.
my friends giggled when they met us together said
oh he is so handsome! and so kind!
i looked at his face again.
his backpack was never far.
Yes, i suppose
but it was his voice in my ear.
what's possible:
communities creating their own value
he was doing the work the only way he knew:
a prophet on the road.
i would have him no other way
for this is his form - true.
now i'm not as clear
in my own destination
i resist moving
from my nest this morning it was all
too bright
the sunshine on the buildings of victoria
albert and stonemasons and deadlines colliding
i said - be warned:
i'm as dark as a demon these days
moody as a roller coaster gone a-riot
if i snap i snap.
and i'm making no promises about - anything.
past performance is no predictor of current capacity.
he said:
depression is part of the human condition.
No need for the warning.
I will take you
as you are.
Ah, you nomadic geek.
coding currency
valuing only the true:
that space between the hard
objects of our world;
it is so soft
the value only we can give one another:
this precious grace
