Tuesday, October 27, 2015

I stared at the face of the moon
but it was not the moon 
that I have known
because tonight 
it wore your face

and all that I could hear
over the coyotes coming in
much closer than they usually dare
and the memory of stars
that left my heart in the storm
of a volatile electric state
were the things 
that I don't want to say

because sometimes I scare myself
and I don't want to scare you too
when gentle does not always mean
avoiding the abrasive
but also the embracive 
when I no longer feel the skin
that keeps the raw from touching
too deeply in the interverse

and the voices come
from too far down the river 
beneath the river that is seen
so that the words 
are better left to dreams
where spirits know how to speak
as spirits and to listen too
because they do not have
the distortion of human tongues
nor human ears

and I don't have to fear
how far inside 
this thread might run
the possibility that I might find
it is anchored somewhere further in
than I have yet to be myself

and comfortable is an orbit
I dare not let the echo of my voice
contort  a chaos of
where the balance is fragile
in the now
if eternal in beyond

and all that I can do
is whisper to the moon
what fires in the heart
from a little piece of solid ground
beneath the river that flows
with water we can taste
and above the one that runs
with stars

No comments: