THE BED

There was light above the bed in the blue room
the bed that dreamed it was surrounded by towers
and in the sunken center a body, or two that were connected.
The bed that because of the dream created the light that entered through the night
pierced its silvery darkness, and shone.

The bed knew many things. What was buried underneath, the weight of bodies,
hot memory. It knew positions and breaths of relaxation and fervor
and further it knew how to dream and draw inventions from the subconscious.
Is there anything beyond its imagination?

The enlightened bed remembers things it has heard about other furniture.
It has never seen a bed or table, and can’t put itself in their place.
It is overcome by thoughts and the dark.

An explosion of light glows above the bed
like molten gold
greenish-yellow light. Light without warning.

One can’t say only: “without warning”
which always goes with “suddenly”. A tower of wonder.
Like thunder and lightning. There is no thunder alone, no suddenly alone,
no smoke without fire.
Clamorous light.


“Now I’m embarrassed. Because my forgetfulness knows only itself” -
the bed whispered to the rafters and retracted its soul into itself.

המיטה

המיטה