Whisper in my ear tonight
I am fever all over
Locked inside a cage and screaming
My mind is all made up.
Without your scratch
Drawing blood from my veins
I have no mercy in my heart
Thunderous is my every start.
The clouds have opened,
The Gods have yelled,
Ground has shaken underneath,
Here my spine blows in the wind
Shaking at this fever.
Don’t rush me
My sweetheart
For I am softly speaking today
In a bed of reminiscence.
I am here for your vision
And for your light touches
Delicate ripples
That have found their thoughts
Leaving indentations
Around my daring
And whispering for a more serene scene
Where my clasps
Fumble.
This is how I am moved here
For it is running within my heartbeat
Pavement friction
Carrying the lobes of my soul
Along the dangerous road
Clicking in tune
With the hammers of my piano
What is the sadness we have in our life?
Work begun and living story;
A moment lost in peeling paint,
Lost as sand that blows.
When rhythm runs straight through thy soul,
Collapsing each fear in its spot.
Center my state around the pinnacle
Of rusting nail so beaten,
Cry again some sweet gold tears
Precious as rhododendron petals.
This is my work that I’ve begun
Raspy hands and sore back
Set the tone for my inner heart
Mending this land as best I learn.
Wood’s been slung
Blocked and chopped
Stacked all up for winter’s dry
Cows are fed, so too the goats
That call out now to greet my cheer.
So then come the neighbours who
Have each their own spread
Landing as they do
Amidst the green atop the ground
Growing as the earth’s own.
This is my work that I’ve begun
Recollected by the stone hearth
Fired and warm, and dinner’s on
Longest night, shortest day.
I pressed your Heart against my Soul;
Two tear drops fell to the Earth.
I picked them up into my grasp
They became for my growth;
Like lightening bolts sent from the Gods
I awoke early to see the frost.
What had always been inside
Now flourished across wide expanse,
And as I inhaled, I felt inside,
My belly came and went
Every breath that thumped beside
My Soul against your Heart.
I am not an angel.
My wings broke,
And the sky laughed
While sun spit pink
Upon both edges
Of the letting horizon,
And just as trees
Bagan to bend
Like wings of a crow
Moving again,
My two feet
So placed
Into thick layers
Of mud, unfolding,
Began to tremble
And quake
Further losing development
Of each gray spot of mind.
What is it that I’m hoping to find
Dust paths?
Snowy footprints?
A home?
Tar in my lungs?
Wary bones
I feel the pull
And carry on
Towards that feeling
So that I can
Say that I tried
And really mean it.
My soreness is my body
Ten thousand years of toil
Rolled around in consciousness
Left unto the rain
Heavens sent a tender note
Calling me goodnight
There I rest my eyes asleep
Wake me when I’m ready
I have a vision
Been coming stronger
Sitting in the middle
Of a wooden floor
Carpets laying around
Neatly arranged
Raw browns and orange
And fringe
And a comfortable
Record spinning
Easy for my heart
With a friend
Who’s looking into my eyes
To find a vision
With the smell of herbs
Floating into our souls
Palo Santo,
Incense and a candle
And plants
Creeping around the room
Like they invited me there
To sit
Like a student at the altar
Singing with the open air of breath
So clearly enchanting
The moment in the sun
As it arcs its way across
The beams of this vision.