Crisscrossing Floods

Xmas Flood

Tides roll across my body,
Like suns fighting over the void of space.

The lies that made me
Have ripened into truth.

A mother’s child forgets her not at all,
This child’s mother forgets him not at all.

So what metaphor should I lay on you now?

Cause we’re not here for the weather report,
Or to read aloud the phone book,
Though we all do rage with the seas below us,
And above us.

We feel what’s yet so far out to sea.

With so many names listed within our hearts,
We have nearly forgotten our own,
And in owning our names,
We cease to Be,
Named Eve or Adam or Spartan
Or Bush or Clayton or Wilber,
For we are all special.

Barnyard animals still finding our feet in the straw
As, the first grasping adventurous,
The first needy land walking fish did.

We look down and ponder
What is this gift of mobility,
In our hearts,
In our lives,
This Strange ponderous Nature upon Earth
That throws us as surely as we throw ourselves
Upon the shifting beach,
The shifting wet water filling sands of life.

And believe me,
It is all one big pun
On the name, the sound, and accident
Of God.

So the tides flood,
Give seasonal push, off season.

We feel a time and place that is not our own,
And mourn the loss of that which we never had.

This is the curse and Fury of imagination and Eyes.

Streetlight Fearless,
Low inside the life of Light.

Change the bulb,
Change you and me,
It’s in your closet.

And believe me,
I don’t know what to say.

Grab hold of the Main.
Ride this horse the same way.

I love you.

I know it’s true even if so far away,
In space and time.

I’m seeking the Superluminal stride,
Between the Tides with you.

Flood.

“The sound of the faces in the crowd.”