Gliding Gracefully Across Space-time, We Rise To The Surface Of Ourselves

1.

Flourishes of steel gray sky sporadically emerge

from the wind-tickled treetops

as she gathers momentum

one bounding step at a time.

 

Left foot,

crumpled leaves. 

 

Right foot,

decaying stump.

 

Rhythm dancing like war drums splattered

against a tattered horizon.

 

She runs instinctively,

memories drifting away

from her throbbing center

like rebuked moonlets,

like the emaciated eyes of the wind;

a well-worn junkyard maze of muscle memory

guiding her through the circling buzzards,

each fleeting hazard briefly elucidated

then returned to the darkness,

 

Briefly elucidated,

then returned to the darkness.

 

2.

Moonglow shimmers,

yanking on the spindly strings of her heart.

 

Like the well-worn pages of a beloved paperback,

her beauty, too, is built in stepwise fashion:

by letter, word, phrase, and sentence,

the unfathomable and intriguing result

being a waterfall of elegant inevitability

that splashes like a conjurer’s trick across the stage.

 

Left foot,

right foot,

rhythm dancing.

 

The galaxy churns,

as I await await the splendid embrace

of your smile in a pitch black room.

 

The rain blankets the Earth,

as I cozily sit like my legs were made of springtime,

knowing the wildflowers of sentience shall stream over the landscape

in a riot of introspection and thunderous rumination.

 

3.

You exist,

and you are multidimensional.

 

Everything I create

is in your honor.

 

Cultivate awareness

and move toward wholeness,

I counsel myself.

 

Yet it is always without forgetting

what the shape of your hand in mine will be,

how it will feel to explore the boundaries

of mere molecules, bodies and minds united.

 

Goodnight,

my dear.

 

Tonight,

we journey onward.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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