waiting to not belong
not all wrong
to be turned with dust
into sunflowers on these
red hills
climbing high on the trees
being with leaves missing edges
lost forever.
running through the
chasms of a songbird's
digestive system
dancing to the changing score and
movement
.
Every now and then she baked
And we'd all come in saying nothing that mattered.
waiting for that soft lump to grow
as big as the room it was in
I remember us all standing on the chairs by the lamp
and her telling us to get down
before she finished one of her stories.
(..and if I ever see her again )
She always ended with "and that's the way it was."
and the room was always warm and friendly.
^
I think I can find you again
say it's alright
say its ok to try
to bare my self a little
as these shadows pass over inside the
quiet stillness
tell me that like images from dreams
they will quickly disappear again
its a funny thing
like other things
that voice in the shadow of my heart
that i hear every time
i fall
it helps me endure
the surrendering
and the cold night air
...
Images open in my mind
standing clear against countless time
from inner membranes, earth falling light
captures thoroughly overlapping possibilities
( I'm leaving out these five lines to give
a sense of curiosity and wonder)
like an old sculptor watching the shadows fall
as one world slips into another
...
On words needing a voice,
inspiration, air, waking life and love...
Elements wash the mountains flush with colors
that change with second looks
speaking with ease and nonchalance
It's enough to forget such natural things
but why is it enough?
..
And as if to make this point
I go back for a moment to look
after the foreseeable future
making anything at all into
everything equal
Perhaps its only thin air but
how comforting to think this road
leads toward that horizon
Im here in the lines you might pass over
a reminder that we all make images of
anything everything and nothing at all
like the living spirit running through all things
never ending in one lasting scene
.
