page 121

"Stillest is we,
stillest is we,"
says the oak trees.

        why not can my
        be stillest in me?


:::


there is a harmony
in balancing
the forceful opposition
of reaching further
and staying grounded.

no one knows this better
than the trees;

reach without your roots,
and you fall.

choose the security of the soil,
and you never grow.


:::


"there is a reason you cannot see me
with your sight.

you cannot see me
because of my light.

this is my goal---
to turn you away.

a ceaseless farewell---
to lead you astray.

for i am but a mirror---
reflection of day.

i am who you are---
in your truest way;

there is a reason you cannot see me
with your sight.

close your eyes now.
there i am!
there you are!

right here. see it now?
this place, the nearest star."


:::


click-turn-ignition.
"ready to go! ready for today!"

crrrank. crrank. crrank. crrank-gurgling-spitfire-POP!
thumb-thumb-thumb-thumb-thumb.
"i'm up".

melancholy's morning
feels a lot like the start of the day

in 1910.


:::


rearview mirror.
don't like the song? turns the nob.
new station. "that's more like it."
residual coffee bean on the tongue.
looking ahead. "Louisiana?"
"you came from far away."
checks temperature and the time.
"thirty more minutes of freedom."
tapping fingers on the wheel.
"did i---oh yeah, i got it."
banana in the passenger seat.
"i need to get groceries."
"yes! i love this song!"
sings along. checks rearview mirror.
crossing a bridge. striated shadows.
click-click, changing lanes.
reaching for the bana---

the torrid body of a semi truck
barricading left---over the guardrail!
pupils dilate!
involuntary reflexes!
grab the wheel and turn right!
guardrail tears like paper!
glass splintering---catching light!

silence.
suspension.
falling.
dropping.
descending.

a thunderous clap!
a wall of white wash rising!
inertia---knocked out!
bubbles---everywhere bubbles!
sloshing. gradient of light
dimming, dimming, dimming.
air is in a chokehold. gone.

suspension.
silence.
quietude.
equilibrium.
stillness.
focus.
awareness.
contentment.
being.


:::


we continued to eat
from the trough of ignorance,

to fill our superfluous desires,
to consume our vacant needs,

until we were entirely satiated,
fatigued and succumbed to falsehood.

that is when the sickly mother
bore her rotten fruit.

we were aware,
but we kept eating.

now, here we are.
our hooves sinking in the mud
under the weight of our own fear.

this could have been avoided
if thankfulness were not so scarce.


:::


Dr. Divoc,
what do we do?
the hospitals are drowning
our children are blue.

our grandmothers' six feet below
while we stand six feet apart.
how are we to go on
with these burdened hearts?

"You must understand
there is beauty you ignored,
time you took for granted,
tactile trust with trust discord.

It seemed no longer golden
appeared no longer precious.
With such impersonal caring,
the air became infectious."

Dr. Divoc,
it is you we do tancer.
our faith is by a thread.
we are begging for answers.

"If you wish again
for a touch, kiss, warm embrace,
you must do one thing
to dispel the toxic space.

You must practice
something of the greatest magnitude,
bow your head daily
to the mighty force of gratitude."

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