Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for May, 2018

Body is a fine instrument,
tuned to frequencies
of time and light.
It plays; I rise,
ungainly cobra that I am,
uncoil from warmth of bed
to clarity of smallest hours,
in wait of gathering streaks of dawn.

Together-music fills
what’s left of time and night.
I sing along with morning stars.
No bouncing ball directs our song,
but lit on lacey screed of mind,
northern lights sweep aura,
morph to pink, then purple,
mauve, to teal, to green.

I want to dance,
a two-step urged by frequencies
of light and sight,
slip-sliding round the edge of night,
the bend, the lip,
the definitive event horizon,
of that deep-deep-darkest
of black holes.

Cringing from what must come,
I cry, “What’s next?”
Am I rugged-individually alone?
Should I ally myself with “All,”
or invest in beingness of things,
Toll-House-cookies, roasted-beast,
gluten-free-non-GMO pancakes,
or grand-ma’s apple-pies?
How ‘is’ is is?
Can I trust it to be real?

Who would incarnate
should stand solid,
safely fixed aground,
hidden from that lovely light,
inured to spirit’s mad delight.
Granite shoes are safe,
a resolute embrace.

Silly poet that I am, I float,
a winged dragon,
flitting to-and-fro,
in aerial do-si-do,
way too charged with life.
Hijacked by beauty,
like Hubble snaps
of Magellenic clouds,
my eyes are full of stars,
and stars are full of me.
Lucky stars! Lucky me!

When morning comes at start of day.
Realities of breaking-fast intrude.
Oatmeal needs a bowl and spoon.
Teeth hanker for a brush.
Throat wants minty gargle.
The throne I sit would flush.
Such quotidian ilk
demand their daily due,
as toll I pay to even play
their stupid silly game.
Well worth their price,
such gentle gauche accoutrements
call me back from titillating
tantalizing edge-of-mind.
“Put feet to floor,” they bray,
“and join life’s lovely lively fray.”

Read Full Post »