Yours was an undying ember growing into a lake
one could surely swim the depths of.
You would want them, too.
The licking waves that pull at the shore
taste all the hunger of a slow burn.
Time spent in the minds of others is your seated throne.
For all my wanting,
my strength could not match your power.
Stop checking your watch.
Sit. Draw me in again.

lilies of the valley

Coals pop; bits crackle when the morning fog rolls in
and you tug on that golden thread once more.
Past the thicket and back through the marsh,
across the prairies you planted and the trails you cleared,
the slack is drawn in, your first knot tightens and thrums a response,
right over your hollow and across your bow,
a deep resonating bass echoes in your chamber and amplifies unnumbered times.
When your lungs fly out of you like an owlet trying for wind
and you still can't find the way to draw enough into them
and your belly is heavy with anticipation,
know that there is nothing you can anticipate.
You need only stand tall,
twist among the birch and keep the arrow steady;
be with it in it's moment of flight,
splicing atoms, hurtling through the void.
Live in that moment and push at it from all sides,
expanding it continuously.

8:07

Porch lights flicker on.

By 8:16 a pleasant lull hits and sustains for about four minutes before it builds on cicadas and cotton candy and a jungle in the distance that goes on for three feet.
I know this without having to go there
because I've climbed down into it
and now it's happening around me.

The cicadas grow harsh and the colors fade from the sky.
I'd almost never believe they were there at all

but that they all leave and I'm cold in this heat.

Wonder if why is a question of effect, or affect.

Think that it's one but it's the other and learn not to ask it.

Your questions say more about the asker

when why is a question of intent.

And love songs can only be for those you've yet to meet or those you've left behind

when every moment I'm a different me.

This scene is of the people like molecules, rising as vapor, falling, compressing, igniting, transforming; even popping across every distance.

The setting is in the huddling snowdrops and slush or the other, the clouds..

The cicadas grow harsh and I realize I've lost count of them all

and never heard them stop.

Once they really do, I find they've outlasted time

and I believe that it will never be a concern of mine.

Transition out of being a molecule.

Be a vibration and exude the 

b e   c a u s e.