I want to be a fruit tree
I want to grow something
joyful and bright and round as a plum that people could hold it in their hand and call it precious
I want to root into the earth
delivering freedom, arms open singing a cry that cracks at the sky to all gods listening
I want us to cry at the same time
because we're destined to cry for each other
I want to look down upon the pink flesh, familiar because it's my home, extended
my skin stretched out to be a fort for another, a shield and then a home
I want to be a shield and then a home
I want to give them a forest to hide in for solitude
or a labyrinth if they choose, and I'd understand why
I want to give them the mountain, the power to ascend
the hermits path unwinds for them as initiation
I want for us to always be connected
like the jewels that tremble inside caves awaiting discovery, how they owe their sunrise to the pressure of the night before.
If you were a book,
I'd read you again.
If you were a ride,
I'd wait in line.
If you were my dream,
I'd never awaken.
If you were a star,
I'd never look down.
If you were a flower,
I'd never look up.
If you were mine,
I don't know what I'd do;
But I'd do it.
I met a savant over the holidays,
she was about 19 months old
and her methods were profound.
while everyone gave her full
attention as we sat around in
the cozy kitchen, sipping on our
warm cups of coffee, she gave
none of it back to mankind as
she starred out the window to
enjoy the wooded backyard and
the color changing of the leaves
and how beautiful nature is
and if I were smart enough...
I would have joined her too.
I tore the pages from my past
and smiled at you
as I offered each writing to the fire
flames consumed beautifully
the jagged words
that for the longest time
my head stabbed into my heart
bindings loosely held together now
missing the bulk of the stack
the stiches have been torn
but the hardcover still remains
in a book that I no longer carry
ashes are the words
that no longer serve me
On making attempts to clear out the clutter of sadness and heartache