Repetition in Modoc Country

The cycles come ‘round, ‘round again in Tule basin. 
As the seasons of Lost River swell and fall. 
Modoc. The Fierce Battle for Homelands. 1873. 
Did not end, has not. 

from there where stars are forever we are deserts mountains oceans
they repeat us we repeat them
a continuum of repetition is our existence
a continuum of repetition is their existence
deep into day and night beyond time
deep into night and day beyond time
—Simon J Ortiz

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    "Or maybe it's the repetition. Maybe you’ve been looking at this stuff
for so long that you've read all this into it. And talking with other people who've been doing the same thing."
    "I've tried to convince myself of that. I've wanted to believe it, simply in order to let the thing go. But then I go back and look at it again, and there's that sense of ... I don't know. Of an opening into something. Universe? Narrative?"
—William Gibson, in Pattern Recognition

 

To turn across this aching world, this place who repeats, ever emerging, ever dissolving…

CODA
AGAIN: IN BREAKS
BETWEEN SLEEP

what watches
always ceases:

and day! and world! . .

unique is
the unending —
is it along its visage that
the soul slides:

like dust! —

and the world of the watcher
does not always open! —

and the shifting dust:

not illuminated! —

is shed

—Gennady Aygi, a native Chuvash writer who often wrote in Russian.