On days like this, words should be liquid;
a blend of source and wave, of stream and rain.
They should erupt a dawn and wash upon a sunset;
sinuously move along perception, like its own bed,
and pour from impression, like a cloud that spills
what it can no longer hold.
They should spring, sparkling and pure,
from what their meaning was before they were;
then, like tides do, their construction would ebb
so sense, unbound, could flow.
And, flowing with them, restored to that soothing murmur
of what naturally ensues, then effortlessly transcending
substance, like mist rising to converge with its essence
in the essence of air –
I would become, to the first and the last of the particles
of my whole, the utterance of this love; this love that is
a blend of source and wave, of stream and rain, of being
sated and of thirst; this love transcending substance, like
self, expanding to cohere with its essence –
(And who would need words, on days like this… or any day?)
- © 2009 Alexandra* ~ OneLight*®