goodbye sweet moment
lying in the light of a summer morning
readying myself for whatever highs and lows the day may bring. making conscious contact. watching my kittens thirst by their eyes for the birds. drawing back the peaks of audio. tails move side to side with the eyes
these eyes are emerald
these eyes are amber
mine are greenblue…
sending this message to space
trapped by heat the relentless wave
of sun. gimme a lemon
my mind in a prism my thoughts burn through me like sea
salt the machines and engines double
down like doom
throw me in a swimming pool turn the sky to liquid falling
down. cool rain reaches demigod status in the valley
leaking antifreeze side by fields
rivers are the queens
sacks of ice pulled down from freezer doors to fracture
on the tile
night sails in like allies freeing
i am writing the book mostly early mornings. drinking hot chocolate mixed with home-roasted coffee. sitting at my small wooden desk with a swing-arm lamp. i like silence. i may keep low volume classical on a clock radio. because it is spring in sacramento, i keep the window open. the birds wake up and start twittering before dawn. i cannot face the window. too distracting. i write on my chromebook pixel off a g.drive document. i spent the first 2 years working the book in scrivener. i think wearing prescription glasses now has impacted the way my mind processes information. or how i read. i also keep telling myself: it’s all in your head.
Yesterday I ran and the weather was hopeful, was spring. Today the hopeless feelings come on in waves, and collect inside me then strike. They leave me hurting. I won’t have time to sit with them for tea. I must ditch them and go to my work. I am confused. I am touched. My eyes feel weak from staring at the diverse screens. My spirit is strong. My mind is tired of going over it all. The world. The brevity of life. The many many feelings I mistook for fact. Again I promise myself to do what’s in front of me, refuse to retreat or indulge in the pain. For even if the sun be stolen from the sky, I must recreate the sunlight and be joyful. There is no other way I can live.
Slow falls like snow. Not pelting just touching and melting. Slow is not weak or worthless or lazy or wasteful. Slow is not what they say in our fast culture USA. Slow takes the time to truly understand. Is seen and sees. Patience. The world doesn’t know what it wants.