whisper me
over

the waters
of oblivion

so
in the break up

of all
I know

I do not
break down

in letting
go

 

the other
the utterly
other

stir
simmer
boil

finally
distill
in me

’til love
becomes
thick

rich
quietly
true

out
in
the open

fold
without crushing
into quiet

leave
all
device

turn 
into
presence

 

towns have not trains
only their passing

trees have not birds
only their nesting

valleys have not rivers
only their flow

all we have of truth
is its path

and of love
its pull

 

when done too tightly
I find no rest

when too lightly
I feel like an unwelcome guest

those who free me
hold me best

I am
a child of storm
from under
full of visits
love’s disguises
shoreless
I leave
and leave again
wherever keeping
kills
wherever I
my wind

 

a zig
of wind

a zag
of now

a Z
of jazz

a Q
of how

 

ripening takes time
fruit comes slowly
beginning deeply somewhere
in a stretch of sleepy tree

some look to see
what ability I bear
to analyze
not to care

I grow best
with those who see
not just the slowness
but the green in me

 

frankly green
then consciously
yellow
row upon row
it listens
itself
into
ears

what
the winged life
wants

is
to be
out

in

an open
commerce
of hearts

where
nothing
is

bought
or
sold