February Gerund

Still, time-traveling

the frozen sunlight 

casting a dusty column 

on the morning 

rug seven below 

circling the air 

nothing exists animated 

space disappearing

Eden

We remembered passion is good fruit,
not sleep with innocence snake.

repeat-imprint-pattern-experience

the doing of undoing
give being history

Unpick. Duende.

There’s a hole in my underwear, Eve, old girl,
the garden was our lovemaking.

I didn’t care apples. You were thirsty.

I gave you fruit, would have given anything,
just kiss. All hell broke loose.

You disappeared. Love was impossible, dreamt, illegal.
Walls flew up. Buildings appeared.

Eden was eons ago. Galaxies apart.
Dreamt before it happened.

Still, under that tree lips yield to ripe desire

and hissing.

Incantation for Candlemas

O light, your weightless streams reflex through prisms.
Come light, mix with your daughters, water and earth,

reach into the mouth of the soil & pull up the flaxen hair of spring.
Sweet light, recommence! Shine upon your dark sister.

Wake the sleeping seeds of blossoms! Move stones to trees of fruit!
The earth wants moisture. Make yourself a cloak of rain!

That dark girl awaits her playmate - come light; make merry with the night!
Fleet-footed morning bringer, levitate spring, for all living things!

Seep through the numbing wind, we ask your nimble spirit in.
Fiery Light, blaze the furnace of the sun, forge the blade of spring.


Surround our heads: a nimbus. Enter our minds to enlighten us.
Stream our veins. Elevate our spirits! Be with us.

Oh radiant one. Light! Come!

Answers

You were a confused handful

of soil with tenacious worms. 

You needed opposition, 

and the river rose 

with the gift of thorn. 

You wanted gravity 

like a rock, and the wind 

answered, sweeping all 

around you away. 

Your life depended on death. 

You tortured yourself 

with flowers.