It’s doubtful that they ever knew how inside of you trickled a tiny stream of phrases promising without delivery an action that never arrived. It’s dubious that they ever imagined that the tiny rivulet would become secret floodwaters within you that one day would drown out all ideas pertaining to them as the surge broke down the wooden posts only half-blocking their phrases from the machines within your head that processed the wood into truth. Little did they all know that within you were compartmentalizations of them that became a burden too heavy to hear by the cabinets inside of you that held their weight. Shocked will they be when the contents fall to the floor and the flood eroded the wooden structure of the homes they built within you with your permission. Fortunate will you be when all that is broken is washed away leaving you with a clean slate to build your own walls.
Barefoot amidst the movement of lapping, cold waves—a gentle soul walks onward into the ocean. Mangrove branches loop out from the water and marine alluvium soils. Tiny fish grow within the intertidal zone, protected by the plants and disrupted by her calm feet digging into the sand. Hair wild amidst the cool sun rays softly kissing each eye into a deeper caramel hue. The water against her strong ankles as low pools fill and recede into the Earth. Gusts pick up cooling a body flowing in tandem with the ocean waves as the heart connects to the soul of the ocean.
Joy is the shape of his smile
With lips that provide a fullness in the world as if
The moon were cradled in a cloud of love in outer space.
It is reflected in his eyes that also smile
Concentrating his energies in the action that provided
His fingers to pinch the air around him and anything within reach.
Joy is in the sound of his singing voice
Calling all to hear incomprehensible thoughts made up of
The nodding of his head and excited flailing of his being because he can’t contain
The forces of nature known only to him.
La, da, da-da.
Feel my power. Two flying birds are swimming in purple-gray skies that are cracking open before my eyes. Sweet lavender and jasmine. The birds circle the ring of fire that signify the irises of my eyes as they glisten with depth. They are facing the skies I eulogize in my memories–tomorrow.
Rumbles reverberate from my chest as I hum pin-drop tunes. Birds fly in the sky together as one and I try to grasp their spirit and emulate it onto me. When the fires start to pour all will be indistinguishable from polymer plastics to electricity crumbling my lavender skies.
Two birds of a feather shed excess weight to fly higher and love one another while flowing towards migration patterns to sing the flowers out of trouble.
I see the shape of planets in my deep afternoon sky as they reveal volcanic eruptions and whirlpools of dust. Each tree is a grass this evening. The storm is coming now. Origins within my mind as two birds diverge to open up my path to the sky. I am the splitting Earth. My breath an implosion, explosion.