I ponder about speaking
As I watch you dig in the garden with bare hands
To get back from the earth
The tranquility you plant with each tree.
I wonder,
If you feel your own hands often enough
If you look at your own reflection in the river-
When out in the wilderness
Watching you sit on a lump of time
Shaped to hold your body
Is exciting
“Wrap yourself in the night’s blanket!” I try to shout
“And keep your eyelids shut
“The sunrise will happen by itself!”
No sound comes out of my mouth
I feel invaded by overused, empty, inflated words
How patient will you be to see beyond convention? I ask myself
How quick to pigeonhole me? …and shudder at the thought.
What if you read science fiction,
I feel uplifted with the thought
Then I can convince you without words
That my god –when not hibernating-
Is a shape-shifter
Who changes from a ray of light
A chunk of silence
And a raging river
To the ligaments of my heart
When the moment calls for tenderness.
July 20, 2000