After April

After April

You may happen upon this stance,
Taking care first of small realities,
Forgetting again, the cold heart of the world.

You may look to the West,
That easy winter,
That blue-grey sky.

Sometimes we’re not humorous when joking.
Sometimes we’re just brushing our teeth.

Some say, it only rains so long before turning into a desert.

The times may not be linear,
But a compounding progression,
Deepening the effects of expression.

We still wait for another Easter,
After this vision,
After this scene,
After this sleep,
After this cruelty,
After these showers for the flowers.

Into the night, the sky
The dirt, the mountains,
The shadows of the Darkness before dawn,
We throw Relief, this whisper between us,
Knowing ourselves.

We from the trees,
Moved to the savannah,
Walked and aimed with an arm,
Found the Me,
Then the you and me of us.
The Mees with Eyes made something from a tree,
A broom, a loom,
Plantations and the City.

Like reactive action,
Steady stop buzzes the Bee,
Touching flowers for the time Being.

We found fire puzzles,
The strong and weak forces, and
Eggs to be broken open by the sly fox’s grin.

We began by growing,
From subatomic parts outward,
From some old center of gravity,
Tangled by our power to pull, and our successes.

We are a species of guilty blood.

After April,
Of this year our Lord,
What will we see.

Might we feel our way finally to freedom?
What should we know to know this?

Just dumb questions we don’t hear each other asking.
Dumb like tape over the mouth.
Dumb as paint,
Some coughing soliloquy,
Dumb as color illustrations.
Dumb as blindness to the Sun inside you.

What glorious rainbows Spring up there?
Is Light truly half of Dark?
The most sacred days are spread evenly between
Each Solstice, each Equinox.

Life like Light
Proceeds in two temporal directions,
Back and Fro,
Photons carrying the energy and
Information of Time,
Reflecting until finally absorbed,
By you and me, and everything.

Maybe what we see, happens to be.

Maybe after April,
We will believe.