cards are dealt, pain is felt, spirit is eternal, but soul is true/ colors fade, flowers bloom, birth is ancient; death is too/ open now, smile at the sun, exposed to the chill, not afraid to feel/ because the world is beautiful, heaven is here, love is forever and life is real...
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Monday, May 7, 2012
the witching hour
I was smart about this
at first
Careful
to remain alert
and aware
of the likely possibilities
of the only reality
that I was willing to accept
Calculating
devising rules
(I was going to play)
fortifying myself
for the road ahead
thinking always
of the end of this
Defying
the gravity
between us
But here i am now
recklessly
thinking of you
at the witching hour
And this Wild Woman has paralyzed me
sitting on my chest
piercing me
she speaks the spells of my heart
flies wantonly around my mind
flinging open the locked doors
shining her moonlight
on my secret thoughts
She makes me fiend for you
makes me writhe for you
makes me call to you
And now here we are
recklessly
looking into each other's eyes
at the Witching Hour
at first
Careful
to remain alert
and aware
of the likely possibilities
of the only reality
that I was willing to accept
Calculating
devising rules
(I was going to play)
fortifying myself
for the road ahead
thinking always
of the end of this
Defying
the gravity
between us
But here i am now
recklessly
thinking of you
at the witching hour
And this Wild Woman has paralyzed me
sitting on my chest
piercing me
she speaks the spells of my heart
flies wantonly around my mind
flinging open the locked doors
shining her moonlight
on my secret thoughts
She makes me fiend for you
makes me writhe for you
makes me call to you
And now here we are
recklessly
looking into each other's eyes
at the Witching Hour
the changeling
my soul is not
made of air
she is no ghost
no
figment
she is part liquid
plasma-like and
glowing
like a jellyfish
but
begging to be touched...
she is floating
shining and cozy in dark womb waters
drifting
caught between freedom and form
stretched wide at the crux of metamorphosis
pulled toward rebirth in two directions
laid bare and exposed
she gives up her water to the air
pressed in on herself
she relinquishes it to the earth
she is snake
and bird
sun and moon
fire and water and earth and ether
she is an original
existed before the number
'2'
sometimes wishes to fit in
and enjoy the confusing illusion
but
she must stay as she is
without her there is no catalyst
no connection
no constant
she must remain
forever
a changeling
made of air
she is no ghost
no
figment
she is part liquid
plasma-like and
glowing
like a jellyfish
but
begging to be touched...
she is floating
shining and cozy in dark womb waters
drifting
caught between freedom and form
stretched wide at the crux of metamorphosis
pulled toward rebirth in two directions
laid bare and exposed
she gives up her water to the air
pressed in on herself
she relinquishes it to the earth
she is snake
and bird
sun and moon
fire and water and earth and ether
she is an original
existed before the number
'2'
sometimes wishes to fit in
and enjoy the confusing illusion
but
she must stay as she is
without her there is no catalyst
no connection
no constant
she must remain
forever
a changeling
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