the meaning of light
I love light in all it’s meanings and manifestations
the way it curves around each finger tip
as you cup air, and make flowers out of it.
The way it makes me levitate
when I take out the heavy things.
Unpack your bags, and stay a while.
Where there are imperfections
there are perfections in
the way the world turns upside
down, and I breathe deep,
balanced on the top of my head.
Crown of this, planted, like a bulb,
a scheduled blossoming of yellow,
my favorite flowers, I love so much
I want to eat the way the earth moves
and shakes me, unfurls me like a flag
of a country I’ve never visited,
of a place I’ve never been,
beside you, and the desire
only to breath deep,
synchronized, fits together,
the way clocks are,
in each hemisphere,
the methodology of the brain
as it moves from left to right
and what is unexplained
will remain a mystery.
I don’t need words to explain
the way the rosebud politely
lays her petals down
before a god, because he asked her to,
before the god had seen her
as human, but still, loved her more
for this imperfection. My wish
I have written on hopeful petals,
silver barks of rainy trees, leaves
as they come of age, this all
springing
as the god moves closer,
through the forest,
charmed by what the body is better at knowing,
to meet his love.
fast draft one, after 3pm asana, the discussion of radha and krishna and mark’s letter about light