Thoughts and the written word
The night is sitting
in clouds of mist,
in skeins of drizzle,
ancient fishnets set to trap
the solitary walker
with just a touch enough of wind
to make the cold air sting,
to make the throat go raw,
and give him not a place to go
but tears,
The old abrasive word-wounds running dry.
A gathering of ancient poets
Garnering a vastness
Of experience, observation,
Sins, and angels,
Sit down to write in concert
Sow the seeds of sparks into the air
Crisscross the circuits of each others’ minds,
Then scatter to their separate caves of thought.
Concentric circles center in the earth
Then springing, fly into the universe.
In this, the dial is cast;
Tells both the hour and the day.
From wooden earth sublimer visions merge -
The universal truths of time and age
In centered circles fly about the stage.
from ~ A Midsummer Night’s Dream ~ Act 6, Scene 12
Did you know that great green giant feral sea turtles
Slip out of their shells on moonless, star-filled nights
And gambol gleefully about the reefs,
Giggling at each other; happy in their skinny-dipping?
In the earliest of morning light
They are lassoed in their tropical lagoons,
Given a pat on their muscled rumps,
Admonished to be nice, and not be naughty,
And sent on their way to look for their shells.
They find this sport to be quite thrilling,
And chuckle all the way back home, still naked, dragging
Their empty shells behind them with their flippers,
Until they find their locker rooms (near Davy Jones’),
And only then they wriggle back into their shells,
Tucking each other in, and sleeping off the night.
Who knows if somewhere deep inside of every one of us
On some deep-hidden atom of our pancreas or spleen,
Some Newton or an Einstein sits in contemplation
And wonders if all things are relative,
Or even if all things are what they seem,
And whether if his planet is all headed right
And wonders on the nature of the Thing…?
This night so dark I cannot see your face
This moonless night, without a trace of light except for stars
Where and why do the wild geese fly
When all is dark in the nighttime sky?
Orion with his sword and shield
strides toward the zenith
pushing the red-eyed Taurean
into the West.
The carapace splits,
Breaking the cicada’s back.
Music fills the air.
