Thursday, November 17, 2016

Epicedium epi-ce-di-um 

You are everything this isn't 

     Praising the dead 

     Porcelain paths recede and fall beneath 
     Beard falls under the precipice of his neck 
     Flows Drifts down And Praises 
     What has moved on 
     Deeper into the abysimal sunrise
    Twine and Knot grip 
    Tangle precious 
    Grip Unstoppable Determined 
    Over thin peaks of ice and roots 
    As fallen and bound 
    Tangled knotty fiber
    Tinged with compacted earth 
    It doesn't matter now
    It will grow without relent 
    It will fill the unknown 
    It will fulfill the unknown 

Mourning the Loss 

   This isn't 
   Forge, burn, pucker, melt 
   Smell of burning hair permeates 
   Through tire irons of resilience 
  This is all 
  No response 
  Bleak black Rays penetrating my closed lids 
  Burning them to open 
  Accept, accept 
  Reject, reject
  It matters 
  If it matters 

Comfort the bereaved 

You're the prayer I speak everyday 
Cotton candy feelings, just a tickle 
Avoid damage 
Where I had been, will be, was 
Doesn't matter now 
It is ok 
Ok to feel 
Ok to be afraid. 
Like molten rock 
Emerging from the forge 
Warm solidity expands 
And scatters heat around in embrace 
Who I am 
Who we are 
This is. 
Cooling down into amalgam.

This moment 
Pressed to bosom 
Hip to hip 
Thigh to thigh 
Chin to shoulder 
Nose to neck 
Skin to Skin 
Move, meld, tangle
Unsuspecting soft calf 
My foot grazes strong sturdy warmth
I thought you 
Love thought you 
Words in my head 
Like confetti for a celebration 
Destination not far 
Or beyond 
I am here 

My earth my home my sunlight 

My core 
My Pinnacle.