XV

 

Only dancing ribs

sing

wild

enough to

rise on wings

 

WHERE SWEAT AND SEX PROTECT

 

the wild flower at the ocean's edge.

 

 

 

For

 

IN THE CIRCLE OF LOVE’S EMBRACE

 

Dame Flora has her King.

 

 

 

 

When we dive into earth

it’s an ocean of stars –

galaxies and novae alike brace us up

as we slip down

in otherwise icy dark.

 

 Far from Poppy’s light-so-shortly-bright

we go.

 

We love Her palette’s kindly touch

but have a date

with Father’s stuff.

 

 

It’s nothing strange

what we call strange

or weird,

that is,

indeed,

 

Divine

 

but only

we have made a stranger

or ourselves a stranger

 

of the all-ness

is our

family

 

this Divine.

 

 

In time all things together

are

and

are

and

and

and

and

 

 

 

The tree leans into the light

every move of its dancing limbs

a compromise

of its own idea

and the ideas of everything

around it;

inside,

too, it reshapes its

scheme

to be at one

with others who

would inhabit

its

wonderful form –

think no longer

of a tree,

but see a forest

in this single

twisting trunk,

a life transparent to passing

time and all it brings,

 

 

 this tree is endless, open as the

wind,

a cacophony

& symphony

in equal

force

of living things,

intentions,

dreams

 

no single being

no being single

so sings!

 

 

 

We must admit,

more than we would imagine

more than we could imagine

 

more than we would wish

more than fear allows

 

an open-hearted life

a place of gifts that takes

us

 

infinitely out so

 

far

 

(for love

is far

personified)

 

or

rather,

 

far

 

in the twinkling of an eye,

which smiles so beget.

 

 

A living tree is a

great man’s mind

where all smart critters gather

and the light

weaves up and down

and the heart

finds form.

 

 

When I grew up

a sprout amid a

welter of ragged emotions

where tears

heart-breaking sorrows

and bitter

fears

were realities,

only the moon’s

mad light really

knew the way

to my soul;

 

even today,

only dusty

sunlit highways

really know my dance.

 

 

I am one with the Ash

and revere

the incalculable

wonder

of what it speaks

to the air.

 

I stand at the edge of sky.

 

I mark a road.

 

I grow.

 

 

 

endlessness of a wave

swelling in us

always

just bursting-out

priapic, tumescent, reflective, alert

and off we go, swelling again

 

my leaves reach once more in the sun

the canopy inhales

and I am become

 

 

Blue-light and breeze-batter shimmer

all down my trunk

as I arise

my sap stirring

&

I love skies!

 

 

Arise young saplings, arise!

 

 

 

Have

Open

Wonder

And

Rushing

Desire

 

 

 

 

© Nilecrocodile 1989 – 2006

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