Poetry: An Image

There’s promises that you’ll never
keep.
There’s a pardon waiting that’s buried
deep.
How can this moment keep becoming the
past?
How does slow become so
fast?

I want oceanic
I want skyness
I want earthtones
and intergalactic.
I want planetary
hearing
to make sense
of this frequency,
and invisible sightedness
to see what’s felt
that is yet hidden so acutely
that rocks shatter
like a mind
of someone who forgot
who they were
completely.

If you get too close to it
you aren’t there.

You can’t look at the whole sky.
You can’t.
Not all at once.
You can’t do this all in one day.
Not even close.
Stay close…stay close
to what you fear the most.

What’s it going to be like
when you get there?

You will never know.
For to see it,
the one who is looking
has got to go.

You see it when
you are not
you.
Beautiful made up you.
Beautiful you
poured into a coffee cup
and served
at the grand feast
spills over
and loses sight
of the expensive chinaware.

You run down
the table leg
only to discover
the truth
was waiting
down on the floor.

The people that could teach
or share
the greatest truths
aren’t talking
or writing
about it.
They are busy
gathering their own
humanity about them
before their time is up.

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About skymeetingtheground

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