I Mentioned You To My Memory

I mentioned you to my memory,
Cascades of flame and soft silks came to mind,
I mentioned you to my heart,
A rowboat made of diamond, a paddle of mother-of-pearl and
an anchor larger than the Milky Way parked itself outdoors,
I mentioned you to my vision,
And a turquoise world, made of gossamer spider webs opened
up upon me and swallowed me whole,

I entered a labyrinth made of solid gold and filled with
birdhouses in every niche possible,
I came to a waterfall and knelt, unloading all prayer,
hope, ambition, confession and human-thought,
I walked away and turned to look,
On the cobblestone walkway made of fiery opal was left an
ivory skull, veined with amethyst and sparkling lights,
sinking out of sight,

All went black for a moment, then a tiny light appeared
ahead of me,
I heard a breeze going on outside the maze’s hedges and
felt sand land upon my crystalline skin,
I absorbed the granules, I gained weight, height and overview,

I looked out over the labyrinth and saw in its center an
albino minotaur dancing with fairies, gnomes, dwarves and
elven spirits,
I marveled, I dissolved into the breeze,
as a flock of egrets took me in their beaks and ushered me
to a far off lagoon, depositing me beneath the body of a
sleeping woman,
I became the foundations in her dreams,
The meadows of her awakening,
The forest of her childhood imaginings and the shore holding
a wealth of oceanic treasures, securing her future kingdom’s rise,

She stirred and awoke, I surrendered and held her upright,
Cupped her feet, received her shadow and knew I had become
light enough, since her footprints lay all over me,
like fossils of little fairy-boats leading to a river-nymph’s
palace and party,

Far off I heard a voice,
But did not understand that they were words,
Nor did I know if they were song, story or just humming,
A voice, a vibration of something which was there now and
wasn’t there then,
I knew but did not understand,
I opened myself into Closure’s eyelids and witnessed the birth
of a million baby suns,

I awoke to find myself being painted by Van Gogh,
Collected by finch, crows and villagers planning next year’s crop,
A field of sunflowers all following the transit of morning,
noon and evening’s dusk,
Gently touched by breezes,
Nestling field mice and providing shelter for tens of thousands of
Atlas-moth cocoons,
I inhaled myself and exhaled her scent,
Only her, her footprints upon the waving flag that is my soul.


December 19, 2014 Michael Angell