Poetry: The Place Without A Word For Time


Let’s go to a place
where we can pretend.
Let’s make believe a world
where being who we are now
is a risky proposition.

Let’s live a life
where there isn’t even
a right word
for us or here.

Let’s divide into two…
I  will fly through an open window,
you shall walk up to the door
of the same house
at the same time.
Open the door for me
to burst and flutter free
into a blue sky
and you follow the feather trail
up the steps
to leap from an open window
into obsidian depth.
How far away from one another
will either of us get
on a journey that only leads
towards a collision point
of you and I…
how can we find an end
when it’s all
always beginning?

Let’s go to a place
where we can play a game
called death.
So we can feel
what a journey’s end
might be like-
so it can feel real…
so we can feel loss
of one another,
for the first time again.

Let’s hide in a closet
called Earth
and play
“85 Years in Heaven”.
Let’s stay there
so long that we forget
how timelessness
can leave us wanting
with heat that bathes
but never touches…
the way wind can
the way bodies and trees and water can-
Oh, let’s stay until we can run.
Let’s stay until it hurts,
in the way
it can’t
when we don’t
have a body
to hurt inside of,
to live through,
to breathe inside of.

Let us sleep upon sister Earth,
until we can sleep there,
no more,
until the next time,
we return to the place
without a word for time..


About skymeetingtheground

Healer, poet, author, yogi, single father...outdoorsy guy.
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