be ever gentle to thy words
treat them, your tools, well,
cleansing and protecting,
wrapping them in cloths of chamois and moleskin
that they may be well conditioned and
pour forth with a temperament clear and viscous,
reflecting their high honors and a noble lineage,
they are well-intentioned to exist far longer
than your meager temporal life,
upon this ever hasty, ever perpetual, orbit

give them all respect, their fair due,
they are treasure immeasurable,
for which you have been granted guardianship,
custody received from others to be gifted onwards,
yours, but for the duration

so oft we trifle words,
expel them from the country of our body,
without passport and earnestness,
as if they were the cheapest of footnote filler,
day tourists, to be treated as leavings,
refuse for daily discardation,
barely noting their fast comings and faster disappearance,
but leaving not, a mark of distinction

more truffle than trifle,
find them in the dark forest of your life,
use them sparingly, just for soaring,
take them from the roots of your trees,
shave them with a paring knife,
counts them in bites and measure them in grams,
even in grains,
for words are the seasoning of our lives,
agent provacateurs that can modify the moment,
bringing out to the fore
the flavor of the underlying

speak them slow and distinct,
for they arrive slow to you,
a trickling of refugees for your sheltering,
harbor them as full companions,
protected by natural law,
provision them well,
prepared and ever ready for a quick departure,
moor them at the embarcadero,
for the next restless leg of endlessness,
which they themselves will inform you
will last longer than eternity,
long after there are no humans to speak them

POEM 68*

The curtain dances the breeze
through the window
chasing the sun slowly
across the wall
until it highlights your face.
You begin to stir,
one eye opens
as your hand
reaches over to
where my heart is racing
toward good bumps.
You move closer,
place your head on my shoulder
and return to sleep,
as a dream’s smile
covers your lips.
~~~
I have always loved
watching you sleep;
your breast rising,
falling
to the song
only you sing.
~~~
This song,
the one that wakes me
to the morning sun,
that carries me through the day,
is also the song
that now eludes me,
shatters my hopefulness
and carves shadows
all through my heart.
~~~
Every morning,
as the curtain dances
the Autumn breeze
and the sun climbs my wall,
I wonder,
why have you gone?
Will I ever hear from you again?

*Aztec Warrior 10.7.15