A rewrite of "Swollen"; originally a creative response to short stories by Virginia Woolf

TRANSCENDENTAL


In a dream-like state,
out of the body,
into the spirit.
On the blue-green edge of reality.

Becoming weightless, I am only aware
of a subsonic pulse: a heartbeat.

I feel your presence, the palm of your hand
on top of my head. It presses me down
into subliminal depths,
your air inflating my lungs.

Your nearness impacts like mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
Your breath swells a fullness upon my lips.
Your tongue tastes of pollen sweetness.
Your words pulse in my throat.

Swollen, I am bathed with inspiration.
The life of your thoughts flutters within me,
like a first and sudden quickening
of spawned poetic progeny:
Immaculate and mysterious...

* * * *

Bumble bees are not designed to fly;
they rise awkwardly yet somehow
manage to land with grace -
like our words with their short, inadequate
and ephemeral wings:
Poetry in motion.