Let the rude earth warm me
Let me peace shake,
Let my time here spend
Centimeters above.
I can hear pulses,
Below jaw, above voice,
Behind knees to feet that speak
To the ground, for fear
of troubling the hands with the full weight of the sky.
As you close off the illusion
Of stillness the circles begin
And as they spin we see that
The only real vision is silence
And silence is more beautiful
And forever than imagined
I always think the first epiphany
Is the last. Have you ever
Touched your palate, pretending you are it?
Imagine tongue as finger,
Explore the mouth and
Surprise delight to sit at
Heaven.
Different keys for different flavours,
Life is a difference between mushroom and banana. Use its
Loudest instrument, to communicate Consciousness to
Your roof, as if you were
Your own saviour, blessed by your own kiss
In the bark there is a
Swirl,
Press it, let its edges round
Yours,
Look down the avenue’s
Trees
With wind reaching in, to
Spine,
To the roots of your soul
Twined
To Earth’s grace, rolling on
Round itself, round the sun,
a God.
It is the feeling of being
Cradled,
No matter what you’ve left
Unconfessed.
It is the feeling of being
Warmed,
No matter how many scars
Deface you.
A leap of time
Between Death and
Knowing;
Curving
Round my soul,
It streaks out to the
Stars, becoming light,
It fuels
Me on or in or
Back or round,
Depending
On how I look at it or
Listen in.
We make what ifs and isn’ts
To feed our minds fresh memories
What can be made can be
Seen, what can be seen, is.
Still life cannot be stopped,
It was there before easel,
We can only sit in silence
And find peace in mimicry.
Being Every Day 