The Events On The Road Of The Night

The events on the road of The Night,
A candy-cane atlas moth and a wishing-harp
laughing near a wishing-well having sprouted
from a droplet of the Moon Daughter’s love,

The Manzanita blossoms that form a thin prairie
atop the asphalt and a memory that doesn’t
correspond, a synthesis of love and bewilderment,
a roaming of the mind and the waves returning to
smooth-holding-still,
I remember that I had forgotten you,
There are some things Science can only blush at,

I’m witnessing Time as it is and whether I am here
or not, it is both a body of Expectation’s knowing
and unknowing, a body of truths and wishes, something
disclosed and sacred, burning underwater and giving
birth to opposites, death, paradox and surprises,

Time, a crystal ball carved into a book, pages leaning
into my view, some premonition, some magic to raise
the deceased, some anchoring of those moonbeams who
fade too quickly away, tightrope walking on Dream-
catchers, unfinished 1000-piece puzzles laying in the dark,
perfectly level, dreaming of a completion, while being an
insatiably designed landscape, destined to fit back into a
very small box,

I am the permission of Big and Small,
I cross paths that are not there, but are,
I argue with phantoms,
I disclose secrets to themselves,
I taste the air and the music, the levers inside
the invisible,

But, nothing can be disclosed about the vacuum
that surrounds the grace which permits all of this,
So, I speak from favor, not knowing, not believing,
I do not deny that I am, nor the question of ‘Am I?’
Just ease, following the footprints of feelings and
smiles, welcome and happiness, reason and winged
anchorage,

Thunder crosses my heart,
Lightning moves my fears,
Rain washing fairy-laundry,

A testament is torn,
A license is allowed,
A new boat breaks away from its mooring and floats
eagerly into old waves, happy to collect the weight
from the storm cloud’s letting go so to eventually
touch the bottom, where all new things are destined
to be,

There’s a dance I avoid,
There’s a void I’ve danced,
There’s a dancing void that’s saying words and
making sense of the transience, lighting Lighthouses
underwater,

Stepping stones and glistening dog bones,
Marching Vikings and red roses strewn,
Leading to the Sun’s bedroom at midnight’s noon,

How the broken window tells the story, clean and neat,
How the retired train off its tracks says ‘I am that I am,’
How the love making fleas wake the deaf giant beneath
the Earth’s crust, moving Hawaiian islands miles apart,
How Love touches and yawns and moans and spawns,
How the grizzly bear cub yearns in the berry patch,
looks and does not see its parents, accepts its beauty
as one, tastes the fruits of one hundred hands and soaks
in the moonlight at just the right time for Poetry to catch
it napping,

To feel its adjustments,
To arise to surrender and accept the illegible cursive notes
between Time and Timelessness,
Herein and with,
Thereon and forever,

A kiss on the lips of a sea-blue-blurry-Beloved,
Not haunted by unfound pirate chests,
Comfortable and peaceful, breathing in and out a simple
way forward, baby-steps and cathedrals listening for the
birth-cries of new volcanoes,

A daisy, a tulip, a marigold and a primrose,
On the porch of Forever,
Vivifying the static in the air,
Planting the guesswork,
Capitalizing the C in Chaos’s hair,
Combing the fur of the deceased King Kong,
One million keepsake-lockets of his fur completed,
Three million to go.


February 27, 2015