A Cargo of Green Hearts
~POEMS~
enough! stop your counting; the manyfaced moon is still widening her lovely chin to you and away; the sea still stretches toward the shore with long kind arms as if to offer something you barely recall having lost then withdrawing; and the birds, which winter has gouged out of autumn's piñata will return to lift your sagging heart on antiphonic strings only to abandon you to deafness. this happens every year; everything happens every year, but don't be blinded by time and its iron numerals. there are no beginnings or endings, no lines or cardinal directions, and clocks—those desperate inventions, symbols for madness in worlds kinder than this one—can't be trusted; a caterpillar does not become a butterfly, it is born a bud blossoming into wings, a collage of thoughts aching into a love story, a tongue scrolling out into a future tuliped kiss. you, too are not a collection of resolutions, thresholds: you are the thing itself happening to itself, the sea in mudrā unfurled on the shore like a collapsing child then rising to catch the sun like a ball again, again lifting the flaming ball high drawing it westerly into the sea, again like so, like so! it is true, lover: the universe adores the whoosh of breath the whump of heartbeat but no one stops to count such things without being turned from the path and burned then drowned. Comments are closed.
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Poetry LogPoems are posted here when I'm ready to share them. I often don't title my poems. The date you see above the poem may be the date it was posted here and not necessarily the date it was created. To see more, click on the Archives below. Archives
January 2020
CategoriesUnless otherwise noted, all content ©Paul-William Gagnon, Creative Commons Attribution-Non Commercial-NoDerivs license.
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