Friday, April 12, 2013

What if, for one day


4.12

I remember Mr. Zacur explaining
the different between kinetic and potential energy.
What is in us is so much more than what is of us.
If you could see inside me:
dreams mortared with pliant hope,
and thousands of thin whirling spindles.
At night I dream in song, quote ancient texts.
I run through forests at high speeds.
Sometimes I wake up thinking
I could build sanctuaries out of airplane fins
and spider silk, serve a communion meal
of fig juice and bird seed on tin can platters.
It’s not hard to imagine everything worthy
of blessing and consecration,
even on this rainy evening, all I see is white.
What if, for one day, we could meet
our full selves, press our fingers against
stone and make song, drum our fists
to create radiant light, open out mouths
and transmit fissionable wisdom.
My skin is tense, my brain itching,
so much is stored up, perched.   
Life may be half over, but I am
still humming with natal faith.  

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