This Is That Kind Of Play

May 21, 2010

This is that kind of play…

Together this heart
and your earthbound landing,
this ladder’s two feet kissing the ground
to raise you higher to that rooftop
where your parents sat with faces in hands
and hearts in back pockets,

That chimney’s expression
of clarity-in-purpose by smoking,
keeping the perfect home warm while empty,

And this pool of blessings golden so to
wrap your soul’s handful of consequence
in rainbow silk, garnet ribbons
and diamond love notes.

Waterfalls lifting their skirts
to reveal endless waterfalls
doing the same…

Obsidian grizzly bear yawning,
ruby albatross stretching singing laughter,
emerald salamander dancing politely alone
while leafs are pressed against reflections
of themselves to practice embracing
next Spring’s dreaming of budding and greenery.

I see you painting a fence with a concoction
of ground up pearls, aspirins, mints, cream,
off white buttons, teeth, bone, elder hair and
eggs missing their suns.

I witness the ghost of a lamb
get up from having spent all winter
curled inside a daffodil bulb
and then walk into a dying wolf
to kiss the inside of its eyes ‘hello.’

I see you getting up from your bed
and looking out of the window
whose breath-plate is cool to the touch
and relinquishing to admit
both non-clarity by frost above
and clarity by proximity
to the heater below.

Nearer now to the atmosphere of Heart,
not to imbue or exorcise,
not to plant or harvest,
not to take or loan,
not to fall in
or to inwardly tumble softly,

This distance between the ‘u’ and ‘s’
is a blood, mind and bone illusion,
this pressure I sense
is Sense making some sort of
electrical love to me,
a spyglass with no glass…

And then again,
this ‘me’ is but a whisperer dancing,
a whisperer whimpering,
crying with passionate
awe of luminosity from looking at,
having to stare for Love-sake
upon that one single hair
on that one single sun’s flaring mane,
a sun who’s with no children yet,
oh, but so pregnant!
So, so, so…

This collective ambiance of five ways
to receive the world via this body
is five spirit-jesters dancing against waves
crashing on the shore of a single snowflake
snowing more.

Of Distance,
this is where Echo dances her dress off
and Narcissus must swear to Pool
that he’ll never again believe
that its depth is equal to its surface.

Behold Beloved,
the roses are holding their scents
till you awake,
the sunflowers will not follow the sun
until you do,
the walrus will not dive deep enough
till you do,
and jasmine will only blossom at night
when you are always Daytime.