Wednesday, September 30, 2015

Lineae (or Paper Patterns, pt ii)

Circadian circumference rhythms from the earth's core
flow from the center of my outstretched palms
towards blood/red-moon/shine
Down on my skin, fading to transparency
As you, thousand-for-everything Southern child,
convey a similarity
a parallel, which
I must find in wildernesses, pomegranates
to smash in my hands (probably four years later)
and therefore redeem a powerful phrase I uttered then,
when I (now) realize, my previous orbits were unaligned.

I will forever call you Aeolian,
Your laughing breath stained through seven exhalations.
Midnight silence still burns on my eyelids,
but this quietness is ever-cleansing and ever-revealing.

I'll ask you three questions, then:
Are your origins atmospheric?
Will you allow my wind to carve your name?
What colors are bursting from your hands?

Just please don't say red.

Tuesday, September 22, 2015

Notes on the Chronicle of Soil

Head spinning // Heart spinning
(Both in flight)
Room misting
Christ above, silently watching

I am not awakening!
And I wrote:
laughing forever and ever. In Holy, hilarious ecstasy.
Still asleep,
So much more alive.
It is all under His feet.
Heart completely on fire.

and intimately woven.

Were we:
Spheres of brilliant energy
Tangled in forces
In the heaviest depths of night?
(And no, it is not what you perceive it is about)
But much more brilliant, and increasingly brighter.

So now, let me ask:
When do we crack to share the balance of multitudes of brilliance inside of us?
When do we rise to then explode in front of our open eyes?
When do we open our hands, compare our wrinkles and then rub them together to make electricity?
Tell me, when are you ready?