Poems drift out of me
Like islands form in an ocean
Of infinite space
A sea of creativity
Into which others dip & swim
& nourish themselves & my selves
Some grow shady trees
On which fruit hangs, juicy & nurturing
Some grow worn tracks where thoughts
Have gone round around, grooving the land
To grow themselves
Some are parks for picnics & play.
What a life that gives me gifts such as these:
What a life that has offered me love
At a late age; love I’ve wished for forever
Even now, rare as unicorns, ephemeral as double rainbows
Even now made of prayer & songs of morning.
I pick up the threads once again
To knit? To sew? I have no ideas
Beyond my hands having something in them
With which to work a working
Towards magic? Towards love?
How can I tell, for all is such
In this life:
“Everything is holy now:” *
Don’t bring me figs; I do not care for dates
Don’t bring me excuses; live up to your own dreams
Don’t put anything dead at my feet for me to prepare to food.
I cannot tell you what I want
For if you don’t know by now, you never will.
Life is made of one continuing surprise, after all
What you bring forth today
Bears fruit on the morrow
As one day passes,
Another lines up in its place
Like some cosmic Stairmaster of before & after.
Exercising the soul.
Filling in the blanks I didn’t know were there
Frightening small dogs with my heavy tread
Still, it is only me
Shrugging on a jacket
Or pulling off my shoes
Or climbing on top of you on the couch
To stretch my body around you
To make a wish for a dream
To engage with my age
In eager enjoyment/enjoinment
To taste & test & touch
To yearn into & tease away
And all of all, to love.
Who has time to live a conventional life?
Or the inclination?
Not when there are worlds & words to
Uncover, discover, recover
To render into small bites
For chewing: a cud of circumstance & dream
An element mixing surface & inner elements
A deep’ning dwelling of hope & holiness
The place where these meet & rebalance
All of who I am
That I walk forward in this world
That I take your hand in intimate delight
That I bring my smile to you
That I offer the who of I am
For your love.
A hobbyhorse on a carousel
Colorful & gilded in morning
A turning of around; an eternal wheel
Whereupon the world may never change
Yet the universe is shifting from up to down
From rote to miracle
From beginning to ending
All upon a calliope.
Circus music, mustang mortality,
Bright lights, small encounters
Bought & sold, given & retaken
An afternoon’s delight
A morning’s withdrawal into coffee & comeuppance.
O bring me no resolutions, no fake news
Restrain your anger, suck it back inside of you
I have no use for it, no space in my life
Where that fits: your angry logic…
Allow me my miracles
Stand down or look away
For I am dancing to the tune
Of my own being, a cosmic ballet,
A giggling shimmy
A vest of fringe over clown clothes
I am whomever you make me to be
While you have nothing at all to do with it…