i want to share with you
something of myself
but you are so delicate
and i don't know my own strength
an earthquake, a flood
your teeth fall out
bones crushed into powder
the sky sings every day
of the great mystery of truth
the breath is a refilling
the lifetime is a refilling
the universe is a refilling
a cycle, an orbit, a pouring out
the lip of a bowl to the lip of a mouth
and a body for a body, between teeth
i am broken down
below energy
cry
cracked open, trunk-split lightning
a melted treasure, a lost coin
a last coin, given and taken
the eyes witnesses draped
the uncover, the contact, the electric
"there is nothing" a lie
a little bit about me,
a little bit about you
and a wisp of fear and a drop of love
there is a moment which does not end
floating stationary, forever falling away
forever chasing, gaining, yawning
and the track is broken, the groove is muddy
slippery and unsteady, writhing, torn
yet nimble, cloth folded in the mud
skin waterproof
i don't know who you are, my soul
o my lost one, my love,
the pain of our separation and our bond
and the joy of a crumb of its reality
is enough for a lifetime
enough fuel for a heart
for ten thousand
million beats
i am lost and i am found
a wanderer, a reject, a flower
trampled in the mud, a coin
at the bottom of the ocean
the wing lifts the sand
and the grass cracks the bone
roots in the clouds, suns in the dew
and your ears keep returning
and your hands, to mine
your eyes gaze back at me
every day, every year, every century
your skin is a sky-world
a pain in the chest
like drowning
or want
does it end? we dream of ends
for millenia we've dreamed and feared the end
and the cycles continue, every runaway
just another orbit, a new face
with those old familiar ears
surfacing through the ages
like a distance-blue mountain
a rising bubble against the black
a bell struck at the beginning of time
whose sound sparked space, like fire
my god, you're beautiful
and more than can be wanted is what is here
just here, without you
o sweet one i have tasted what it is to let you go
and my vector bends to another space
like a bubble through the city pavement
or a blue-cast willow as large as god
you know
so big you can't even see it
what is in here?
anything worth saving? worth sharing?
there's that doubt again, even here
in the field beyond the moon
where the locust has fled
and no sound reaches
but the chanting of the Messengers
whose only desire is to share themselves
completely, transforming into nothing
from nothing to become a new thing
behold, you hearers, you ears
you eyes, pockets of coinfingers
it's really not that complicated
if only i could
listen