you said dive in
bleeding only begins
the fun and frolicking
thistle wrist-ing
flat stone skipping
across a still lake at night
do you count the leaves
by tick, tock and pricks clocks play
or do you just watch
poet stains pour themselves
between pain worn flowers
and where all the water
goes they ignore
how sweet is
the nectar scavenge
of when we ravage
with wanting to know
when what we humans
have to give
is the only temple
that matters to anyone
and as with most
friends and lovers
we were at once
and before brother sister
father mother
or any other of
the yay-saying familial
or knots to be
we question connection
and particle adherence
the empty valence shells
spell out deep pools
of wonder and awe
are we meant for living
while creative and free
or is service to others
meaning to be our wishful
wistful wrists full
of thinking we see
rhetorically
the poem
pretends
there is an end
here or there while
expression lingers
nearing a silence
masquerading as
an abyss that is
calling our names
tide and sea
walk in the rain
happy to be you
happy to be me
EJR ©
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