July 19, 2007

Like Five Year Old Trees

This is Heaven.
A calamity of choices. A combination of voices. All of them loud.
All of them mixed and intertwined and indifferent for the most part
most of the time.
All sweeping and loping and rolling down hills
into rivers and up into the sky. Lifting off of flat rocks and into my eyes.
Sweeping.
With lines like five year old trees that can still curve
and become something else. They weave through fences
and make you figure them out. They boggle your mind
and make you quit before you're ready.
I am like this -- Heavenly, and unsteady.

From "Lucifa"