Some days I start out to work on my book.. and poems show up clamouring to be written, so I oblige.
Words As Stones
a poem
Some days the words come spilling out of me
tumbling
like pebbles pouring over the lip of a waterfall
tumbling
end-over-end
they make little cracking sounds
as they strike each other
beneath the surface of my mind.
Other days they roll forth like boulders
slow and heavy
rolling down a slope covered in thick summer grasses
slow and heavy
the ground shaking with each rotation.
The pebbles are the smaller, faster words
daily words
coffee-cup and pencil
laundry and dog-food.
These words pile up against each other
damming my thoughts with day-to-day items
until something bigger gets shoved through
and they spill over
flowing sometimes out of my mouth
a river of thoughts and words
jumbled
like the marbles in the hand of a child.
The boulders ARE.
big grey heavy things
weighty, stolid and friendly-seeming
these are bigger words
they require time
contemplative words holding enormous meanings.
love and resistance
thought and calm
tremble, inkling and explore.
These are words that build foundations
words that can build walls
if not carefully placed
words that can raze cities
shift tides
create universes.
Every once in a blue moon
there comes a day when the words
become spaces
and the spaces link arms
filling up minutes
hours filled with
something other than words or ideas.
On these days
I look up at the sky
trailing clouds and stars
following bees and bird-wings
my mind spacious and open
lighted by sunshine or moonlight
humming from my feet to the top of my head
hands brushing grasses or snow
nothing needing doing
no pebbles
no boulders
no words.
