Her brain was addled
from too much cake
(so they said)
though anyone knows
that cake will go
straight to your toes
(instead of up top)
and make you jig
dance til you drop.
She licked the crumbs
right off the floor
held up her plate
and asked for more.
Now she lives atop a tree
pining for you, waiting for me
waiting for anyone (truth be told)
who will bring her a cake
(she has a heart of gold).
Wondrously wanton
magnificent
munificent
magical melee
terrifically tumbling
poetically perfect
patently potent
slaphappy
skipworthy
slanderous & slippery
bucketful
blissful
beautiful
bountiful
rain.
Young woman in a wheelchair, a little white dog
reminiscent of my Henry tethered along beside.
A service dog she trained herself to fetch things
for her and do whatever else perhaps open
the blinds in the morning close them at night
do the laundry maybe even the dishes maybe
cook up an omelet now and then or pancakes
flipping them one by one onto a blue plate.
I could picture my Henry doing so oh yes
and wearing a chef’s hat too standing on a
stool by the stove his bright adoring eyes
watching over all.
The thing is this: a person sitting at a table
eating a peach maybe a small bowl of rice
various thoughts and ideas traveling through her brain
suddenly realizes that every other person
too has a brain occupied in more or less
the same way the difference being that
whatever riffles through one remains
shuttered up unbudging in another or
yet becomes tangled in a sort of chaos
in still an Other and so on differing
to the point of mystery
so that each to the other is only
a map of a territory at best
which gives no indication of
what the houses there are like
who lives in them
what they’ve planted in their yards
how narrow or wide their streets are
and whether or not their loved children
are safe to play and wander as they’d like.
A glass of grace sits before me
cardinal on the branch
morning’s cool breath
sunlight dappling the leaves
and I do believe that if I
drink up the crisp cold sparkle of it
gratefully however wantonly
my glass will be filled again and again
and yet again the trick being that
the more delight I accept
the more will be given.
Lovely rain arrived in the night
bringing gifts for the birds
surprises me waking to wet leaves
shiny streets a cloud-laden sky one
red cardinal perched on the top of
the Queen of Hearts’ head singing
no doubt about the greatness of rain
of Life as he knows it
of True Love babies and hope
of the particularities of this day.
And as the sun peers out from
its cloudy home the trees’ dripping
leaves flash all glitzed up as if for
a gala event the name of which
I cannot know but to which I
most fervently wish to be invited.
One day I will do it
follow the path
do the thing
take the risk
launch that boat
navigate to the place
I truly want to be.
Whatever stops me cannot be
immovable surely as I myself
have placed it there. Others
think I’ve realized my dream
but this is only a diversion
that looks like the dream.
You’re doing what you love
they say and it is partly true
but partly only. One day
I will truly do it. I will.
I imagine I have needed all
this time to get ready
at least that is the nice thing
I will say about it.
We walked over a narrow bridge above
a wide expanse of water still as a drum
the moon’s slender boat slung above,
our hands comfortably snug
in each other’s back pockets
and stood in wonderment at
the starry firmament the moon the expanse
silently telling each to the other a tale
of redemption one that would take us
deep into old age beyond infirmity
and aching bones one day even past
the sailing ship of that same old moon.
Full to the absolute rim of my cup today
inspirations shooting through my brain
a veritable fountain a plethora an avalanche of possibilities
lightbulbs popping on, one after one and another!
No time to loll or lollygag no dawdling allowed.
The doing is now the thing oh how the doing calls.
My two dogs snore dreaming unaware of my
epiphanous revelations.
And now a branch of the walnut tree
bobs just outside my window
its slender leaves dancing dappled
in the cool morning sun.
How can I leave this room just now?
For though other sights may be
grander, more sublime
breathtaking
just now in this moment
that particular green
that inimitable light
those perfect shapes
that graceful ballet
surpass All.