An Advent of Sense

nights that fizz and bubble up rising until they burst only the dregs are left were the laughs worth it? wine-soaked thoughts slide lazily around my brain if you can't remember did it even happen? perpetually exhausted exhaust fumes out my pores drown your boredom your champagne problems are you quite finished? the next round's on me.

They found us.        gnawed at us til we were bones.        a feast for foxes. The stones above us        are weathered to stumps        cobblestones of the new way. The roots have long since found us        we dance with them        in deep slumber. The earth spins on.        rivers of blood coursing        through its veins.

All at once, everything shifts. Be it the wind accompanied by hushed tones, leaves of grass? In a book written by the hand of time, master poet of the senses. Words from sound, phrases from taste; a cacophony of feeling. And I, reed shoot from the earth. Moved gently by breezes Breathe still in myself

This undulating stretch of land, round and rolling rivulets, This green, that green; dark and brooding, lightly laughing Another year spent rearing the darling buds and leaves The trees sacrifice their young To make autumn's hard-won bed

I'm through with my fear of the slugs, their slime does my spirit no harm. They look up at me with their glistening length and I think, "Oh, how soft, sweet, and warm!" I no longer see dirt on my skin, the muck muddles me not at all. They speak in a language that cannot be known, their stories leave me proud and tall. No more will I hide the great beauty That I feel without and within. I'm blessed beyond measure and will work to spread the sweet love that each new day wins.

quiet comfort drops on canvas fingertips on drum a song for your soul to sleep to