Sunday, October 26, 2014


There are no evergreen sunrises,
or eternal records stained from woolen wombs.
Greeting my silent eyelids in crystal mornings:
"I must be intentional,
but I also must be free."
Fashioned several knotted statues in your honor,
and they haunt me when I move away from softening lightness.
I revel in autumn.
My spirit enlivens.
I realize I am both increasingly wild, and infinite.
My spirit rests and tumbles above my head.
Flickering sunsets, to blackest diamonds.
There exists a deepest curiosity in the back and forth,
the push and pull of emotions.

We are ultimately fully human-- bursting at extraneous seams.
Seams we do not need.
Seams which detach and retract,
as thistles shiver to polished wood.
Heartlight travels through physicality
pulling and pushing to everlasting.
Teeth clench as inspiration is formulated.
I maybe am meant to be a writer, poetics bursting
at the tips of mountain-frosts.
I collide and continue,
until His depths cease to penetrate.
Early autumn,
we squint and subsequently become entranced.
Souls to mingle, hearts to come entwined.
Are you completely confident in your choice, to move every molecule?
Your energy space, pulled back, to include?

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