Saturday, May 21, 2011

Do you really think we came from the insides of stars?

~ Migration of thought, it shall not return void. As seeds are scattered so will the roots spread and grow in fruition. Ripples of influence as our interactions without fail have no choice but to impact one another. We are responsive mirrors.


I watched stars pour out her mouth
Celestial bodies squirming and dancing
Taking form tickling my ears and
Running across my neurons
I could feel them tugging and sliding
Giggling as they went

I watched stars pour out her mouth
The birth of idea metamorphosis
As thought jauntily put its fingers in the sky
And pulled itself through invisible corridor
Peaking out its new body as action
Like a child resurfacing from a river
But more so like one being born
Surfacing for the first time
From some ethereal special place

I shouldn’t use the word spontaneous
Because the way you move sounds too smooth
Albeit unplanned
Organic and real
Like seasonal zeal of longing perennial bloom

This garden of thought you spoke of
Turned into the playground we saunter through
Wrapped up in the vines of verdant growth
Wine spilled out your mouth
I am drunk over you

Terra firma and water molded and clasped hands
Churning, spinning wondrously
A web of golden tendrils too thin to perceive
Barely feeling their residue of charge as we walk through
Dissipation of limbic language
Our words melt in verdant accord
This dream is too real not to be magical

My mirror neurons feel something strange as you speak
Because I watch stars pour out your mouth
Celestial bodies squirming and dancing
Taking form tickling my ears and
Running across my neurons
I can feel them tugging and sliding
Giggling as they go

And I felt the change wash over me
I felt the range of clarity pour forth in swirls
And suddenly I knew it was the same when I spoke
Vaporous flame of effervescent smoke
We’re starting wildfires of the mind
Under the hope they rekindle
Serontinous yolk
We are becoming twined
Forever the twain shall meet
Inside this tornado of growth
For we’re always dreaming
But we finally awoke

We’re always dreaming, but we finally awoke.

Monday, May 16, 2011

Photo of the Day

Ohh, I've been slacking with the blog. Hoping to catch up a little bit. For now, a springtime photo of a red eft and morel taken at Fairy Stone State Park, Va.