Oh dear God let me write
let me sit inside a clod of clay and crackle open my conundrum
let me weave together my woven bits of burning blue bottles and
poke it with a stick, stick it with a ball of creation, create it with a soft
burning feather unhinge it with a hoop full of harkened hopscotch hangers
love just love
let me listen to love and tingle my fingers at just the right spectrum of light
let me glow and grieve and receive
let me return and rehash the trash that is my treasure trove of truth and tunes and
amphibian fibrous roots
and these are my qualms of the state of the world.
no one take the time to time themselves anymore
and no one wins themselves to themselves
and no one wanders trhought e dusty murky muck of the moon for hours on end
just to find themselves sitting on the edge of a porch (which really should be a porch swing)
i dreamed i was a dream worth dreaming and a horse worth chugging and a source of force malevolent ad exquisitely kind
we live in a world of colors dreams, of livid white sheets of squeals and streams and in big bags of broken open boldnesses, perfect prides and powerful premisses
oh fuck yes, this is the birthday of the born again moon this is the circumference of the narrow and boldly emblazoned star beam, moon beam, let me be free from these shackles of shining white feet.
magnetically across the mirrorbed of our motorcar magnificence
no more words now. no more tinkerings on the thinkerings. no more lullabies and criss crossed goodbyes. this is the time for rain, for the forces of the forest to unleash. for the solstice of our souls to trance out of the skin of the earth.
and no one is awake. i don’t mean awake i mean AWAKE and then somehow everyone is. all at once, all the time, all the thrythm and all the rhyme cannot keep me away from myself. cannot rip the shreds and bones off of m throne. cannot will not i am. i am always a little pace of the moon of my dreams of my dreaming.
I have to tell you. What i’VE SEEN, WHAT HAS SEEN ME…AND WHERE AND why and YOU ask me what I’ve done, what’ve been up to
what have I been up to? watching patches of green shadow sunlight fall in jagged lines and harsh oblivion across the sides of my car. i’ve felt the sweet and tangy ripeness of berries bursting back and forth between color and love inside my tiny trembling fingers. i’ve delt the moon rise and set across this holden horizon sky. i’ve watched a team of seizing fireflies light up a wonder wheel of beauty, flying through the air singing songs of summer. i have fallen asleep in the mimd morning light after watching my brother smuggle home at 4am. i have wandered aimlessly through streets with my mother, John Mayer playing softly in the background as we try yet again to not discuss the fact that I’m leaving her. I’ve made the decision to leave home…and i’m running on faith and ferocity and a burning truth buried deep in my chest. the voice is so strong and so silent that i can’t even find it or place it anywhere…but i know deeper than deep the it is there. and i have faith and i have summer. and the season changes because we all change. because life is light is love is magic. and here’s to magic opening and birthing and rebirthing. To rebirth. To magic. To the summer solstice. To the longest day of the year. To just the just the just the beginning.
i speak backwards today…through the stomach of my soul…through the radiance of the moon, through the thoroughly thrusting young caterpillar of truth that was falling, falling i am always falling, always catching myself always alwaysing more and more of myself and less and less of what i think i don’t need what i think i need is the strangest thing but what the universe says is more and less and find and filter and follow and listen and truth, truth will sing the song of forever upon your aged and lifted brow. truth will hope and truth will out
to remember to awaken to rebirth to see to see to see to open your eyes to the glowing golden light that surrounds and sustains you. to have your heart ripped out of your shoulders and replaced with foggy
and of all the moments in my life that have transformed themselves into magnets and arrows and masterful memory clods of clay. i remember the toyota truck, the sticky yogurt sliding down my skin in the summer heat. i remember sitting in a golf cart in the rain eating a luna bar and praising the mountain before me. i remember taking the boys up the mountain, hearing nothing in my soul but the sounds of the summit and the boys complaining that there was nothing to do. i remember the girls with perfect muscles sculpting their bodies our of clay and salad works. i remember the community, the group of peole together at last at once at finally, finally. i remember the wilderness of lightning bugs glowing in the trees. i remember picking black currants at midnight on the summer solstice. i remember this gorgeous couple, young youthful and giving, showing me the world i’ve been dreaming of. showing me that it’s possible.