The dance

As the world revolves

pirouette through streak and shadow

beside her seasons

forget your learning,

leap and soar

through space instead.

Sense is undeserved in such wonderful mess,

we’ll learn language through our Own worlds,

and only then

            as Time flows on

But also won’t

            I write this now

I wrote this then

            Soon I’ll be gone

But here you are

             So here am I

             And here we meet,

A place unmapped, yet rendered real

Blinking through a stream of transformation,

lush green fronds Spring apart, in dance.

Winter winds then blow,

the force that prompts your psyche,

turns Autumn leaves to burgundy

which then settle

on a still lake, one Summer afternoon,

it’s gold tinged and existing,

more perfectly than anything else.

Someone of unimportance, skips a stone.

The strongest emotions will dissipate in ripples.

I’ll stare through your eyes with love,

mosquitoes will drink our blood,

The clouds roll on,

The lake will lift and meet the sky,

The Sun

kisses gratified skin

the Moon

kisses its ocean mirror.

Wave responds,

lulling

mounting

spraying,

Til –

             Release, you’re in Eden.

the case for lust can be made, when

nothing is ever done really, for the right reasons.

Such tiny creatures

architects of superb illusion

wherein lies at least one – answer.

we’ll somersault through life and death,

sorrow and love,

hurtle through the depths

or be bogged down by pure shit.

Don’t leave behind destruction

Don’t immortalise despair

Soar high,

and you’ll be slammed back down to earth again,

somehow still in one magnificent piece.

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