Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Two more, revised

Ecstasy (again) and Julie Came Around


The experience repeats this way:

In this moment,
the world around is an absolutely
perfect space.
The hot point inside you
and the cold point inside you
in perfect balance with the same points,
the hot and cold points, of the universe around.

When that happens,
you rip and run naked
down streets and alleys.
This you do stretching toe and heel.
The asphalt changes with your foot fall,
becomes like sea foam stroking soles.

You walk this way,
swinging your arms,
shoulders like easy oil,
greasing and flinging you through nights,
the darkness acknowledging you,
stampeding by, bearing
new secrets.

Your nostrils like racehorses grasping
every scent of your own and of the earth
around and all the exuberant plants of the night.
Find yourself in this moment
and every other time
you are called to
this exquisite place.

Julie Came Around

Stoic endurance is for Julie
not a sign of strength
or weakness
but of missed chances.

A matter of enjoyment,
Not endurance. In thunderstorm
Julie senses quakerly
opportunity to see that of god,

in blistering heat the eternal,
in caressing breezes the infinite.
The lowliest, fleeting squall

a portal to the vastness
of the deep. Maybe,
I taught her that. Maybe,
it was in me once.

But today in D-City, in sunny,
blustery cold, I am undone,
hardly reaching even no account,
unsatisfactory, stoic endurance.

I do not suffer unfairly,
only there does not seem to be
a piece of god in this cold.
It is said that as one

freezes to death,
numb indifference
is the blissful stage
before unconsciousness.

I wouldn’t know.
When Julie at four said,
my toes are frozen, she spoke
as we waded our slushy way,

maneuvered between glacial piles
of snow, caught in a condensed,
relentless freeze-thaw-freeze,
I said, eyes to the sun, face to the sun,

body to the sun, do you trust me?
Yes, Julie said, with the fervor
of conversion and a prayer for warm toes.
OK. Good, then. Close your eyes,

feel the heat pulsing gently
Feel through cheeks.
See through eyelids.
Test the air, your nose

knows the way to the beach.
Note the orange glow of the midday sun.
Seen best with closed eyes. Heat
Beat Warm. Walk the

beach with me? Savor the sun.
If we were in Ann Arbor now,
we’d be slogging through the snow.
But we’re barefoot on warm sand.

Sand actually hot on our toes.
Exotic, our naked, satisfied feet.
Are we warm yet?
And Julie said, yes, we are warm.

Our toes are so warm.
Our visit rich with our wonder.
Our lives focused this moment.
That message to Julie, coax a little warmth

from always available stock,
came around today.
On the Metro platform, I turned, faced the sun.
More brightness than heat, I could still feel it.

I could feel my satisfied feet grabbing sand.
And the cold and bluster drifted off,
leaving Julie and me at the beach,
so long ago, so fresh today, so warm.

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