literature

soul 15

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Ghrey
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Literature Text

XV.                           light soul


daylight daybreak
ragged old bones
young skin and
remaining thoughts
hold all together;
from breaths
fall out manners
of a cold touch on nose and slow
smile, mists by eyes,
the winter's way that
summer came,
these the cycles,
makes worry grow but
identity,
the memories,
stay;
splinted wander-bones
regrow
their luster
'til they don't
creak too much longer
to sleep
unafraid of tomorrow,
instead of night's step
still dining quiet
and fervent at
the table
wide-eyed, hungry, sampling,
to never get to the middle:
essential meaning and mythical
that stands above 11:58,
ears resound then with morning
result
that watched one get acquainted;
newness sinks in the breath pushed
palmed
quick like sand for a
battlement;
sits above waves,
tide comes in



life
rises well
and shows itself
'this is what I am'
met
with a grin
and red cheeks;




regaining approach and
response:
the mask unmatched and manner re-spun,
a weaving renewing the fact of
the matter in fine print with needle and
thread the
'bless this house' and
the 'love holds this home'
that grandeur,
done



and the home in the heart
and the space in the lungs
and the sweat on the skin
all remaining
and reminding now
of the thrill of one foot
and one foot,
a repetition
pattern and
way

poem pages like steam from big-pot or
pan stove-sitting
this swoons into the face with
a second of
haze
not a
small minute
or slow hours as the
boiling soup this,
yes a sudden fogginess
warmth on face
from who has seen,
what was there,
how it resounded
in the head
wrists arms
and soul

the continuance
of a moment-collection

far beyond
time and its
rhythmic
manners;
day break






sun risen






leaves shadows on
mist; dirt breath,
ground risen to
give daylight
kisses, spreads
out to bugs,
birds,
and blue;



soul-smiles
a thought
and the feel of a body lifting
to hold triumph
of a tomorrow today
and hopes there

future arrives
we are waiting
hungry
and well



bellies filled
a morning bitten fresh into
dribbled down the tongue
lights bright out the eyes
shining body
skin elaborated
past shadows
goosebumps
scars from last
year when the
door caught on
our fingers
the mud forgot our feet
the bites and scrapes from
fists and arms in motion
elbows and knees
scars, they are especially
alive and thin, leave lights on the walls
while we pass by shining
from the gardens to the sky;



we forgot our weight at home
our voices carrying whispers and hums
along with a song
that arrives with the wind
and a bird
below

we catch the tree and pause there
a harmony

very close
a hand with the other
and arms around backs
and held
together
rise
into the sky above
the good morning
deign not
to fall to the good afternoon

timeless
together
and warm

lightlakes
and lighthands
meeting

tips at the top
ripples
far and slow









lighthair
and lightsmiles
inspired
orange and reddening
widening











a freedom
an open window
without the wall


the view
for once
walked in on



smiles swelled,
and peace
begins again
from the tunnels in our arms
to the spaces in the neck
where we rest
One
with another

we will not fall down and
die we are
the children of the god of the mountain

here
we are

past swampwater blue of
mosquito sticks and stealing of
fluid, our spirit dispersed bit by
bit into the woodsmen and careful fellows
watching by the woods,
them stuck too;

we, past mountain rock hole and shadow alcove's recline and
calm regard of steeping over
a firepit and stone, clothes and burned burning wood resting there, or

the grass that clings to
ankles
after remembered days

and worries especially, what
fingernails they are,
sagged into
calves and muscles

and these worry-scars
are gone too;

we will lift
the mountain
with a breath
and a boldness

will open the stones
and black-bowls boring
the bugs below
waiting for
night to
say something,



will leap fast
onto running water
then
be lost
to a thunder and cry from
clouds

but be best friends with rain,
watching
thinking
and cleaning
the roofs we wait on,
streets, those we watch and listen;



open spaces
where we've wondered
and waited to
walk through
to the forest with
eye-dots, wandering eye-bubbles
outlined with sunlight
guiding always forward to

under-canopies,
leaf brown brings belief
in a wholeness,
limbs
before and below us
carry us forward to
stumps and logs
mushroomed,
these stair steps
on sides, we

sit

and smile

around for a time
cotton coat
and buttons
undone
open to a hum
in the cricket song
and the frog's guns
going in the creekbed
behind
pebble perches,

and passing by:
the dawn,
a dream
of skin,
but the body's outline
undone
and the open self
everywhere
in the bark and twig and stem
and there,
there
past the head
and hair
and sight:






an imagined together,
a dream that
visited
then floated on again


and
while we think it's gone,
our dream had lasted forever.
`
© 2010 - 2024 Ghrey
Comments4
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creme-brulee's avatar
creme-brulee
that's how life should be every day
but we are closed, contracted
battered by the concrete surrounding us, tripping over the present while chasing the future, turning circles in the maze of the microcosm
we are?
perhaps i mean i am
but lately i've been waking up to the sunlight
and feeling what my skin feels like under sheets
remembering to breathe with my toes
putting thoughts and stresses into little balloons and blowing them into the corner of the room
when you inhale, feel your body opening up, feel the lungs opening, the veins opening, the soul opening, the imagination opening, the joints opening, life opening
when you exhale, feel gravity taking on all the weight of your body, all the weight of your thoughts, all the weight of the past
and relax into the present
i'm not always there
but when i am,
it feels a lot like your words
how easy it is to forget to be alive!
i thank you for reminding me