mantaraye

The past is gone- gone like lightning that lashes briefly in the electric nights of summer.
Where do the dark clouds come from in such a hurry?
From the other side of the world, where they pick up great speeds over oceans.
We will be swept up in currents, we will be caught up in whirlpools- we bend down in labor and get up again....
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this morning the zebras sweat in the sun like the first muscled farmers-

the forest breathes quietly and the stones have a gentle pulse,

impossible for our ears alone to sense.

Nature dissolves and rebuilds all around us-

she displays inconsistence- she behaves in ways still mysterious;

we think on our errors. We think on temptations.

We let our dreams wade through the mud of...
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out of burned fingertips and broken thumbs,

my heart swells and then explodes.

out of telephone poles that sway:

the first winds of an oncoming tornado.

we come out of broken mirrors that slice bare feet;

we are blood on the asphalt, filling the cracks in the sidewalk,

Bright and Beautiful in the evening light.

out of streetlights that dim, then burn out, popping:

Electrical...
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