24 May 2005


I slip from the gravity
of my emotional mass
just for a moment.
Though I am for the most part
a flightless ego,
lightness in me can filter
to the very heart of my moving,
and I lift as if
a sudden bloom lifting off
from its earthborn stalk, away
in timeless abandon.
I might reach down
with a long stretch of imagination
and plant fallen stars
back up in their skybound farms;
I might drift so far
sound forgets me,
and in silence
deep as a lover’s eyes
I swim through the ether.
And I think not
of my life within sunken walls,
not while I navigate these
fleeting, infallible aerials —
there is not
but the song of moonlight.
I imagine that if I kept going,
I would breach
the very floor of Heaven,
to rise at the feet of God.

posted by John H. Doe @ 12:01 am

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