Is it healthy to jump start

the nervous system

from a lumbering gait

to a frenzy –

like floating on a hyper sea

with a compass spinning,

lightning flashing its grin

over beasts above and below the depths

I hear Bowie telling me it’s ok

because there’s no doubt

it will end

one way or another;

whether mountain or ocean,

sand infiltrates, soil smothers

and soon the spinning will be

our little dusts mixing with other dusts

and oh, stars and thunder and maybe

whale-shaped clouds, if we’re lucky.

evening tastes

of thousands of fiery pockets

of twilight-drenched grassy hills

songbird’s song through the window

asking for nothing

but a listen

the afternoon

stretches like a birch

when the storm begs us to stay

I’ve not aged well since the last time.

I’ve gone grey.

Maybe it’s the way the air has become

thicker like syrup,

birds are behaving chaotically,

and I haven’t touched a fern in months.

I think my feet have become swallowed up

inside another set of feet

and my eyes have begun to recoil

from the harsh light of a new decade.

I’m a little tired.

There are moments when I remember

‘delight’… a bite, a laugh, something soft.

But the scenes fade in and out

and I’m not sure what’s real.

I hope you don’t mind the grey.

This is no costume, no guise.

I am that hideous creature in the woods,

that dumb cow in the meadow

far away from reason,

lacking ambition or understanding.

The world exists in the grass at my feet

and in a cloud overhead

that baptizes poor wretches

whether they realize it or not