Speak
Speak to me
as if the translation
upon my lips has
prolonged extinction.
Use your words to whisper
wisdom, faith, and love—-
I’ll hold onto.
Speak to me
tenderheartedly and I
will grant you
everlasting joy
I was not important
When I walked, my GPS was a nursery rhyme
an earworm
the nose of a hungry dog
When I flew, there was no sonic boom
I chased sirens, hoped to be the emergency
the first responder
Arms sprung from my chest, reached for moons
grasped air
Walls between inside and outside
never really held
My life was stolen fire
What burned was the illusion it was mine
It was small and soft, just fit
my hand. I stroked its head,
hard beneath my fingers,
and its fluffy back and sides,
a flickered tan with a yellow
belly. I could talk to it,
smooth its feathers.
It was mine alone. No one
need know. I could put it
in my top drawer along
with my panties. But then
they said it would smell.
I couldn’t keep it. Back
it went under the bushes
where I found it.
pretty tongue silver
forked, flicks, tickles
your ear illustrious, glints
hypnotic songs, beats
a rhythm your
tympanic membrane
can get behind
entrancing
like a snake coiled up
in a basket, in a tree
making eye contact –
go on and grab it,
break it, bend it, bite it
off, why don’t you,
next time it strikes or flits
out of your own mouth
in a country house
a gathering of friends
warm stone hearth
shadowy fire moving
a mother searching
the firelight finds
her lost boy
and dreams she is saved
sings the whole time we walk Johns Hill.
Is he lonely?
Does he visit us from the spirit world?
Is he hoping for a hot date?
Are there juicy bugs up there in the ether?
I really don’t mind because he makes me laugh.
I chatter back my own rant
as my dog leads me on.
We have no cares for
the meantime.
When I’m feeling overwhelmed,
And I think that I should quit,
I remind myself to walk in the woods,
And find a quiet place to sit.
To listen to the bird song,
And feel the breeze upon my face,
Take a deep relaxing breath,
And occupy my space.
Am I living in my heart,
Or am I living in my head?
Can I feel my feet,
Am I aware of where they tread?
When I’m feeling small and lonely,
And this world just feels too much,
I need to visit with Ma Nature,
And find some earth to touch.
