Wednesday, 05 September 2007


I am standing at the side of the road when who should come along but the shamanic poet Ira Cohen, with his son, Rapheal.

I have a copy of Poems From The Akashic Record with me, and so I ask the aging poet to inscribe a message on the title page.

He takes the book from me and starts to write slowly, silently with a huge silver pen.

He returns the book to me and I read: “To Gary Cummiskey. Ira Cohen September 3, 2007.”

“But I wanted a message,” I tell him.

“There is no message,” he replies.

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