Swept
enlove, ever my dreams, swimming through swamps.
It
was ever our flesh, voyage to soul, rising where angels
dwell.
How to condemn us, a mind attack, spewing out
demons.
Seas would quake, where love would crawl, pleased
in
another’s arms. But only so brief, grappling wildflowers,
jilted,
and ever scorned. To whom it may concern: a sky
has
fallen, an earth has crumbled, a world is grieving.
I
must remember, days of flame, and minimum conversation.
“Why
love so often?” I was sailing ice, charming hurt,
affected—my
life. Such was wealth, a touch of science,
asearch
a new apartment. Ever so close and distant, running
miles,
sitting still, evading our minds. How familiar—so
detached,
swept into a trance. To venture left, and mingle
right,
a net of ferns, and scrambled eggs.
I
vision a boy, with hazel eyes, crawling, pushing a ball. I
wish
abundance, a life of treasures, a mind of yogic ventures;
for
its ever so complicated, locked in a daze, musing upon
misfortunes.
To increase life, a gift so rare, surfing energy.
Hug
and be hugged, palming a dreamcatcher, sipping a
Corona.
This in part is art, a way of living, saga to saga. So
dream
and capture, where others mimic such distance.
