Musing
the muse is on vacation maybe
packed up and left
no forwarding address
slipped away
sleeping maybe tired
of ups and downs
sleepless nights
silence
gave up maybe hoping
for princes and heroes on chargers
believing in evers and nevers
stars being just that
waiting could be just for rain
to cause oasis in the heart
Pro Creation
Procreation is the second awareness
an instinctive reproduction that awakens
pleasure in matter, generates passionate energy
that comes again, six steps away, as creativity
when the hue of words replaces the allure of hair and skin
when imagination composes beyond the curve of body
and insight sees past the color of eyes and reflects
on power with compassion, stretches past syntax
as art is born from long gestation and memory opens
to a new morphology, finding mythology everywhere
for the passion carried in the blood, igniting synapses
into images reflecting experience reenacted
felt again, beyond the groin, embracing the form
that musing makes of the heart's residue.
On the Lightness of Being
Only light is constant, physicists say, reality
mere perception relative to observer
diminished too by movement in time and space
all nothing but light, paradox of particle and wave.
So much then for love everlasting
lest it be light playing through the forms we are
a quant of energy spurting from some mystery attraction
to fill the dark separation and bring awareness --
a ripple, a speck, in all that we do not know
but worship it and fear that paroxysm nature decrees
as pleasure with procreative purpose
embracing ourselves in another, holding on
beyond hope, knowing in our cells the futility of relationship
we dance the light fandango.
