They will speak to you
my mind sang into my
mind as I watched the lines
pouring by like liquid
streams of light
into darkness.
I drove to the Sky,
to meet my ancestors there.
We parked together
in the woods,
the leaves dancing shadows
across time-worn faces:
and we touched in the way
Of the Way,
nestled like spoons,
dipping into each other’s minds
like vultures
clawing for a return to life
in the remnants of skin
that remain,
swollen and juicy
in the Sun.
We watched the stars later that night,
laying back on each other’s back,
listening to the fire lick the silence
out of our mouths,
and I could see our Past
written in the stars
that wrinkled like waves of light
into my Vision.
I could see the connections
Between Us,
the blood and jissom that pulse
history into movements,
into mountains.
When I came back down,
in that cold darkness
of the early morning thinness
of the air,
I could feel my tongue sliding
through the roof of my mouth,
flopping for a breadth of words
and coming up
with bile.
Memories sicken
my mind rang into my
mind and I hung up
this time, I
broke the line:
and I watched
the smoke rising
outside of my window,
billowing up like birds
singing on their way
to the heavens.