Land wore gloves
For the first time
And didn’t fit right
There was no breath
Just exhale and sweat.
A pause broke the noise
As the butterfly
Sat down to rest.
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.
The old spruce and I sat silently
We shared secrets unspoken
We shared ground softly packed
I looked up and counted to one hundred
Each branch I gave a name
Each name remembered its origin
In the world of seven valleys
I heard ravens nesting
And I felt each limb slowly shake
Watching each needle slowly fall
Tumbling to the palm of my hand
Which rebirthed my blessings
In each moment of doubt
Until I stood where the spruce had stood
And I inhaled deeply as the spruce had inhaled
And I listened as the spruce had listened
And I swayed as the spruce had swayed
Until the seven valleys became my valleys
And my story remained so.
The day was half over
Filled with drunks and half wits
That slowly dislodged the sane ties
Holding what edges of reason I had together
I flipped the channel
Groaned with anticipation
And slowly leaked what thick blood I had
Into a mason jar
Ready to be placed close
To lost bits of memory
I never knew were gone.
Every step you carry with me
A fragrance wafting so free
Your spine tingles the very clouds
Surrounding me, which I see
Which I love and become one
Of every day a deep inhale
That reminds me of pure ecstasy
A true embrace
A truth I remember and carry home
To set my mind upon the ledge
Of your clear visage.
When I say you’re perfect
I mean it from the whole of my essence
From my tingling toes
To each breath I excitedly (and deeply) inhale,
From my deepest lost fantasy
To each lightly placed finger tip
That crawls every imagination I’ve got.
Your perfection seeds my stillness
That captures me in your grace.
Your wrong is not a wrong,
Your wrong is effort in my eyes
That nurtures your blossom,
Imagination takes your fancy
And lifts your spirit,
Infecting me like a perfect vision,
A sun rising from the horizon
Inch by inch warming my open eyes
To the miracle of a new day.
Your perfection isn’t in your perfect action,
Or your perfect features,
Or your perfect voice or perfect success,
Your perfection lies within your being.
Your perfection lies within your effort
That dances as you know how to dance
Over obstacles and through conversations,
That listens and speaks and shares and fights
And bruises and hurts and feels and bites.
Perfection is you, not the sum of your doings,
It stays with you as you go,
And returns again tomorrow,
It follows you into your messiest of days
And shadows you as you run.
When I say that you’re perfect,
It doesn’t hinge on how you treat me
Or what you bring me as a gift,
It doesn’t depend on your generosity
Or how close you hold my hand,
No, I mean it without you even knowing me
And I mean it as you walk upon your path,
I mean it as you say goodbye
And wave me our last kiss.
Where is this spot that exists between dream and reality
The viscerally imaginative soft stuff
That shakes shaggy ground free of complaints
And sunsets clear morning’s dew
From cobwebs shining as if testing new approaches
To similar corners, similar filters, similar dreams
That sit still and recoil while inhale meets exhale
And spring meets autumn
And one meets two
And a shoe gets worn through by impermanence of space
That’s always been growing up and chopped down
And eaten and fed and counted and weighed
And slotted into a spreadsheet marked with scales
Ranging from zero to ten with a save button
That creates multiple redundancies.
When the only request is for a tiny piece of convenience
For just one moment.
And in a flash,
With feet firmly planted securely on uneven ground
And hands held out in wide Namaskar to this beautiful world
A little droplet of rain shall fall perfectly
Upon a freckled upturned nose holding thoughts
Of a sunny day and all the rays of life shall shine down
In abundant warmth like a ticking clock
Chiming in at every quarter hour.
Into my ears did whistle harmony
Not of my mind or in my thoughts
But wind, easy wind to fill me up
With dear, sweet oxygen.
And to my friend I inhaled in
The deepest breaths I could bring
To fill my lungs so full, I smiled.
For my liberty was brought to me
So free my mind, so free my body,
So free my soul to float on to
A cloud, where I’m with you.