It's night and the end of a week is tugging at the rest of me. There is a thunder and lightening storm out as I hold the joy of someone in my heart. All of a sudden I find my throat is too choked to speak sense, my hands are too tied to type to tell you how- I don't even know how to articulate what I am, how I have been gaining speed, accumulating, picking up the grains and plankton to finally crash onto the beach of this present moment, retreat with a sigh and do it all again until I am this senseless wave - salt water in motion.
Most would reach, wanting for the word Happy and grab that word, hold fast to it like there is nothing else but happy.. but I am wanting for something much too much for a small word like happy. But perhaps happy is not small at all and words can do themselves some greater justice to put across to you the feeling that is making me listen to this sweet music and making me rock back and forth in a breathless restlessness that is making my hands spasm and sspultter stutter start all over this keyboard in an excited mess. I wish you could see me right now trying so very hard to tell you that I am feeling elated.. That word will do because right now I feel above myself. I feel so high above myself that I can see my dreams swimming at my feet and they are not like the clouds my head once lived within - could only see through when I myself couldn't see so well - but they are the ripples of a less lonesome wave; and my feet, my God, I can see my feet through the ripples of this dreamy puddle at my feet, my God, what beauty all about my feet. And you know the best thing about this beauty? How it is so old and how it is so present and how it is not mine at all. Look at it! 'Not mine at all', I smile. Of course, you mightn't know what's going on in the mess, the puddle, the talking voice that stutters in the head upon the shoulders of this body that writes, because I haven't quite told you in so many exact words.. I stopped beating about the bush only to go and lie some distance away from it and idly point at the passing clouds to tell you that they looked like something else. In short: I digress much. What occurred some lines above was my words trying to tip and spill themselves from the bowl of a mind that can't quite understand itself or where it's at with the world. So now I will tell you how I have found someone and someone has found me and that is all there is to it but how much more there is under it all that I do not know if I could possibly tell you... If I could possibly tell you indeed I know nothing would measure up to this intensity that's started to leak and drip and well up inside of this frail little woman-girl and turn her inside and beside of herself... I don't know, I dont know i dont know
Oh but I am knowing
you, and I'm smiling, too.
and i remember a story you told me --- and I laughed because you told it to me in such a way that was new to me, novel like this is. and i am listening to a song that i found when we were found, and i use this word as though one was digging for another in the earth, looking for something - one did not know what - and came to it
or did it come to one through the dirt, shall we ask?
I'm a sighing wreck and I could still be the happier,
for my brow keeps folding in and out on itself
but my lips keep pushing up up to my cheeks
and my mind doesn't know at all how
to catch up with all of this novel newness
strewn so bare, set so carefully
there in its long and winding path.
Awake in my eastfacing room, the curtains are closed,
Yet my eyes were still blinded by the sun as it rose.
And all I thought of was God and you
And I'll not ask where you have come from
Only where do you go, and then where do we go?
seun, 30.6.15, am.
Thunder is thundering, lightening is lightening and rain comes down now
He tells me I should sleep so I grab my pen and ink, I begin to listen and to
Draw; I write myself into the words and I am no closer to sleep than before
But look at how I am now. Just look at me float like s o