In the shade apparent
When you offer
Your gentle wrist
Soft leaves shake and murmur
Opalescent still shrouded in mist
The crescent moon hangs like a drum
Brush quivers after delicate fawn
Evening rings like a bell
108 figures engraved on a depth-injection well
Bone pickings and prayers sent deep
Into the caverns of our only vessel
Bound to surface someday
Boundless, opalescent, the stage of the play
Expanding always now
I keep one eye skyward
As I kowtow to flutter-by monarchs:
Orange, iridescent, only passing through
Falling fast furling back into their queens’ cocoons
If your room hasn't windows
Still you are growing
Sticky wings opalescent patiently unfolding
The world will arrive
All waters will surface
Brimming with history
We are all in this together and we are
Lost but have cars
We are here to serve and please
But you must know that there are principles
That we forever do uphold
With offered blood red into a chalice gold —
We couldn't stop if we wanted and
No one seems to be asking
So we are running towards the sunset
From a hundred miles out
Thirsty for ocean and living in drought:
We begin again each day.
We are the locked light and you are the key
We wear each other's sweaters
(At night it's chill here / life boils at noon)
We are coming attractions, we are arriving soon
From the gnarled mind
of a director, lush and divine.
We emerge from the forehead
of some nameless god and
We are beauty incarnate,
Angels of wisdom, Angels of time;
That which more and more looks like coil
We are frankincense myrrh and sandalwood oils
Incensing in a temple that once stood.
There is only wood here, yes, and burning
And Gaia's arc unrelenting keeps turning
Unerring as she wobbles through the stars
We couldn't stop it if we wanted and we
Beseech those who would, those who do
To reckon with Mountains and Pastures and Blooms
That will not ever cease. Only renew.
And sometimes in this world a scent is born
And sometimes in this world a spark alights
And sometimes, hardly ever, twinned souls remerge
As love and flames engulf the night
There are places in my heart that words cannot reach. Down deep.
In those places lies treasure, long buried, jewels my ancestors knew how to keep
Hidden from a world that would wrest them away with no remorse,
Adherents of the Piscean creed of man above horse
And woman and child and all earthy kin.
Come and discover. Enter me. Squint to fight the dim --
For as it is with you, it's clear, there is much that waits within
and through gestures and gazes and timeless soft signs
You will find yourself holding a strangely inscribed
Runestone, an agate. a thousand flowers still somehow fresh
Yet ruined by salt, flesh blackened by time.
A feather-light burden: this treasure.
It shall be yours as much as it's mine.
Conquering armies tear down temple walls
But only tenderness slips through them
And the arks of covenant are deaf to the splash of steel on flesh,
of saltpeter and its horrible flash
They listen instead to whispers issued forth from soldiers of peace
And to them they are as sons, unable to contain their secrets,
Grateful to be seen with the eyes of love
Realizing themselves and their potential, as portals from the world of
Stone and wood to the airy life that lightly walks above
Without its waters earth would seem a lonesome rock, hurtling through time.
But chosen as she was by those starry arbiters
To harbor life and its slow dance with eternity
That is in turns ruled by jubilation
and solemnly entwined
Let us feast on the sunlight,
Yellow nectar divine
And drink with our eyes blues that can't be defined
Nor explained with the names of the spectrum
They, like us, in full surrender to the day
And the waves on which it arrives
All washed over
Who loves to dream?
So many places hide beneath
The surface of this conscious sea
That breaks and froths and ebbs with every sigh.
Underneath, way down deep, there are places.
Cities that, unsoaked, float on clouds and
Teem with sages and wispy cherubs
Who look like the children we once were
Forest glens with syruped sunshine drizzling their mossy rocks
And streams that laugh and burble,
whistling on their way to nowhere
Flowing into me
(They defy logic already as they flow beneath the sea)
Nightclubs like the one I would build
Glowing and pulsing with rhythm and sex
Featuring Grandmaster Flash and Shadow on the decks
And the fantasy people all thirsting for me
In the back, plush pillows and roses and tea
(And each time I visit its my birthday, so clearly I'm a V.I.P.)
The party starts when I arrive. Bulbs flash.
Who loves to dream?
Its always springtime, tulips bursting,
Vast gardens of Semper Augustus
Hummingbirds the size of condors and
bears that scurry up my leg and rest, pawing honey, on my palm.
Wizards shooting crooked lightening into the breasts
Of smirking tuxedoed beasts whose eyes you can't quite ever catch
They who safely guide me to the path
And teach me how, for real, to fly
It is under their knowing eye that I dive
And course up through the morphic sea
Full of life and granted gills to breathe
Surfacing unto the waking world at last.
I arise. The day, it yawns and stretches. Another dream begins.
Let me be small
Curled in the dirt
A daybed in the afternoon's parade
Let me lie here
Prizing open to the sunlight in the shade
I want to be clean
Seen yet unseen
A man of the streets and of streams
Running together at an ambling rate
Not in a hurry but with no time to wait
For a sign or guidepost
That would tell me to take
The path my heart already knows is the one.
: To hold nothing back
To begin again always
To sit up in chairs and to stride tall through hallways
All while leaving winking fun hints
to bring those who know close
And traps for the parasites looking for hosts
Letting balance be known in each deed
With no loud assertion or passionate screed
No case to plead, no need
Just to be busy and small
Tending the garden
and the worlds that are within
Just to be silent
To be safe in the woods
To dance with the darkness but march with the good
To close my eyes, cease my words
And lean back into the great redwood
Samuel Barnes is a writer, dancer, and student of many disciplines. Under the tutelage of his masters from various spiritual paths, Samuel has travelled the world tending gardens, building altars, and walking beaches, deserts and woods. He is an instructor of hatha yoga, a lover of language, and an aspiring naturopathic doctor. A native of Brooklyn, Samuel currently resides in sunny Santa Cruz, California.
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