Thursday, August 2, 2012


In an avalanche of thought
what are illusions and certainties
when reason mingles with desire?
If I write a song
widen the field of listening,
If I complete the sequences
of dance, bring it
on the stage,
will you come?
If I sketch the distance
between buds and ripening,
 harvest and delight
and frame it,
will you come?
You have a frail
instinct to drive alone
in whatever distance.
I will come to you
in my bike
towing another bike
I will mark 
the places where we 
can stay and rest
Like the trees 
that I have to learn,
their names, praise
their nest and shades
and other generosities.
In September
the porcupines will paint
the palace, pink, 
and open the gates 
for you.

No comments: