one achy cranky morning i was sitting in a

garden not really sure of what i was going to

do or where i was going to go because the weather

had shifted and i wasn't feeling up to moving much

anyway

 

and i could feel the weight of my furrowed brow

and my bad attitude dragging me down when all of a sudden

i had to sneeze enormously and i did and lost a bit of my

equilibrium even though i was still sitting down on the

step

 

so as my head recoiled and my eyes turned upward i

saw these two guys stuck there in that miserable

position on the lip of a stone fountain that was supposed

to add beauty to the flowers planted carefully

along the path

 

and i laughed out loud at their predicament and how

each one blamed the other for the way they ended up and

that it didn't matter that it was raining because a steady

stream of water dripped down each man's nose and

chin

 

clearly neither cared that their actual function was to

beautify but in the very moment of that observation i

laughed out loud not caring who else was watching me

because i was not fixed in stone and my chin was

dry

 

and they couldn't even shake it off or spit the water

out if they wanted to and after a few minutes the clouds in

the sky and the rain that fell got thicker and more persistent

but i took my time as i walked to my car and drove

home

 



language

 

today my heart speaks a
language that my mind longs
to hear

not in the way of a box of grammar or
a closet of semantics but in the
careful stitching of the weaver
of tapestry or of the painter with
each purposed stroke
with the knowing that flows in the
current that moves the confident tide
in time with its mate the moon

today my heart speaks a
language of freedom that
moves me

resurfacing

i crash my head on an unexpected
ledge and the impact shatters the word-well
jar in my brain just like a scrabble
board tossed in the air
            (tiles speckle the floor upon landing)
the letters are

a     l
  l    
                                         v

                                      o    e 
                                             r

     t     h e



                       p     a  c
                          l
                                   e

     (but don't make
any sense)

           my thoughts (also thrown)

                                 plunge
                                 to
                                 the
                                 bottom
                                 of
a viscous sea i hear their muted
calling but from (where i rest) the
net is
           too short
to reach so they settle
far below me


after so much time tide dredges buried gems


if i just let the boat drift they resurface nearby


i hang over the bow careful not
to disturb to resubmerge them scooping and
landing my thoughts on
deck to dry out resuscitate and
breathe life again