that inevitable
insistent voice
inside us
both says:
“Jump. Leap.
Fly. You
can fly!
Yes.
Fly!”
We are held, however,
by lion’s roar
delirium of
black-eyed susans,
intensely swaying
bodies and heads,
tenderly, wildly,
out and over
devouring space,
above water.
We do not fear this
Magic
in moon’s arc
behind
sea
of
clouds:
Death hangs
on the
scythe:
now you see it
now you don’t
We do not fear this
“And who shall ever tell the sorrow of being on this earth, lying, on quilts, on the grass, in a summer’s evening, among the sounds of the night.” (James Agee, A Death in the Family)
We do not fear this
Fusion and dispersion:
furled bud compacted,
bare dream of bloom.
Photon compressed, zero,
nightmare energy
inside light...
In nothing is...
everything:
pressure:
luminous
black-soft
wind.
I cannot hear my
parents’ cries in
their moment
of love...
cannot hear furious
atoms falling
back into
nothing.
But I have heard a subtle
suspiration that shakes
mountains and oceans.
I am listening to the
incisive music
of flesh rent from
the heart of...
empty...
space.
