Thursday, March 22, 2012


What is Meant by Waking Dreams

relax your shoulders into your spine
collapse like wings.
all my thoughts are random
with no rhythm or reason -
or is it rhyme? -
nothing like song
or like mathematics -
nothing you learn in school.
rather, this is something found
when listening to the sound of air standing still
while you sweep past on a swing
or down a slide.

this morning, I was on the road before the spaceships
came to pick up the children;
the sky was aureate-purple
early sunlight diffused and catching
the molecules of various atmospheric gases
and being transformed by them.
I knew that later the sun would rise
transforming dull gold into sparkling diamonds
dripping off the grass by the shuttle stop.

when I was a child, they would dart
around the red plastic flowers on the feeder.
what must the world look like to a hummingbird?
would it move as slowly as mine?
perhaps they feel as if they are floating
through a softly blurred field
in spite of moving so fast -
because they move so fast -
humming meditatively.

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