What I really feel
is the breath of winter
inhaling the warm sighs of summer,
its final hot gasps knowing it will not
be resuscitated.
What I really feel
are the secrets of autumn already curling
the sycamore leaves to dark, ruddy ears
catching words riding morning to night,
a lilting air in registers no human can
hear.
the dog suddenly raises its head,
momentarily weighs the gravity, lays
back. it bears no call to action. no need
to growl or bark.
What I really feel
is the final chill dropped by night. its end
and the beginning. unless it’s the other
way around.
I turn left side to right. even
more asleep than awake the sticky film of
perspiration causes discomfort. even less
awake than asleep, I listen for cues, for the
prompt from the foot of the stage to lead
me stumbling, stuttering into the scene.
the
sky remains dark. I feel it. I keep my eyes
closed.
a wave breaks. I tumble with its
soft surge, gently back and forth below the
harbor buoys.
What I really feel
are the gaps and pauses left by
the absence of songs. birds choose to sleep
shaking or shuddering as they cling to
slim branches.
a soft sound turns
like a golden seed deep in their throats
passing into the cool dark air as a sigh.
if birds dream.
What I really feel
is the insistent pressure, a crushing
g-force as I reach escape velocity. relentless
gravity holds me. its tendrils wrap limbs and
trunk, penetrate muscles and tissue, refusing
to release, even as this paradigm collapses,
even as failed love tightens its desperate grip.
even as the world careens and
spirals through einstein’s formulae along a
helix yet to be imagined.
What I really feel
is deep isolation held by tumbling
comets as they search the Kuiper for
the icy trail they left along their
glimmering apogees where they finished
fleeing, where they began their tight arcs
along wordless paths back to a star that,
even if they could squint and search the star-
spangled vastness, they would not and
could not see.
What I really feel
is love has its own gravity, is the center of
its own system. love demands interaction.
proximity.
we orbit each other, close like
infantile mercury. distant like variable
comets going and coming. elliptic and
ecliptic far above and beyond zodiacal
prediction.
we dance like tornadoes, pulling
up everything near, pulling in and finally
flinging away. we grow within grand
patterns like the ultimately unpredictable
weather.
we find each other like electrons
seeking valence, seeking stability, bonding
atoms to molecules.
What I really feel
is the memory of a long ago kiss that
flushed my cheeks and calmed my soul.
I thought gravity would hold us
forever in orbits spiraling through the
universe never expecting the crushing
affect of escape velocity.
18sep16
Powerful power you have
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