As I tiptoe across the lake’s meniscus
Leave ringing trails of ripple tides
Falling birds will feather reason’s edges
And bells peal waves that reach the other side
And with feet of clay I mould myself
A fable cast in porcelain
While burning bonfires on the beach of soapbox dreams
Windmill stator winding armature inducing
Voltage in a cortex fold
Sparks will fly into the night defined
And heaving heart to stem the rising satellite
I plough the stars to fit you in
As I rest my head on hope’s meniscus
Surrender daily to the rising tides
Kiting birds will define my reason’s edges
And silent bells transport me to the other side
And Unsurprised I find myself
Alone in a long story cut short
While windmills burn on beaches far removed from dreams
Electric current finds no path to earth
Buzzing in my teeth
Undefined, Unconnected to the reeling stars
And tasting night upon my tangled tongue
I swim to you in water waved in light
December 2009
1 comment:
Just beautiful.
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