“And the speck of my heart, in my shed of flesh and bone, began to sing out, the way the sun would sing if the sun could sing, if light had a mouth and a tongue, if the sky had a throat, if god wasn’t just an idea but shoulders and a spine, gathered from everywhere, even the most distant planets, blazing up. Where am I? Even the rough words come to me now, quick as thistles. Who made your tyrant’s body, your thirst, your delving, your gladness? Oh tiger, oh bone-breaker, oh tree on fire! Get away from me. Come closer.”
your life is your life
don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is a light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you chances.
you can’t beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you learn to do it,
the more light there will be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight
Tossing and turning and thinking and viewing
First roiling and next fidgeting feet
to feel the quality of the light
and the clock pronouncing
resistant to my noticing
a spark of joy
in earlier days
and later nights
out of the tomb
to feel earth
I got up early.
I looked at my hair.
I pulled on a pair of shorts.
The body said that it was up to some.
The head laughed in joy and at the intoned limits of the body.
It was agreed the drive would be made to the Tree Place.
the entire idea of some, in the head today, so far
smiling at the puzzle recognition of energy
the one that begins automatic restructure
treatment for the lungs
anxiety and spin
tell the brain to fret
and also to spin
signal of the mooring
more than anger or regret
not to grasp
a steady marker
a hold at core
observe the body and mind
for the notice of the beacon
to the next, last, gift provided
My living room has a woman crouched and old a bit twisted and a tad bent murmurs whispers wisdom or vent?
She rocks she works her hands the motion stops abrupt thrust forward glimpse of smoothing face joyful expression noticing
a little girl perched upon her toes beside the arm of the couch peeking out giggling brightly watching bubbles float up reflecting my living room
has a young woman in a sweater and a handmade quilted skirt sitting on the couch reading as if to herself sidelong and knowing glances at the old woman tilting her head to listen to the story read just for the little girl wide eyed and joyful perching on the floor of My living room.