under my pillow

i woke and searched
under my pillow,
i found the big mouse
my cat had brought,

it was dead .
i discovered
lavender, linden flowers,
their sweet scent,

burs sticking to
my woolen blanket,
sandalwood and socks
under my bed

i found a box
with dreams
walking with you
under  chestnut trees,

us swimming
in a secret lake
naked
in a summer's night

and our laughter
bubbling out of
the soft water
and the sweetness

of giggles ,
whispers sinking
into my ears,
the release of silence

and sleep
and a dream,
i woke with
your hand in mine,

i found a child sing
and smiles
and eyes
holding me near

like arms,
and i set the box
gently down,
exhaling memories,

breathing
i ate a bowl
of blueberries
and it rained outside,

drops falling on
the tin roof
drumming me
back into sleep

al-ways a way

there is i heard
always a way.
i went downstairs
into my well

deep down
to find my voice
which i lost
in the in-between

they take canaries
into the cellar,
a black cloth
on the cage

they use the radio
to make them sing
in their loneliness.
when they sing

they take them up
into their living room.
they do the same to
birds of prey

to get them used
to human voice
and tame to be
prisoners of illusion.

the skills of humans
make holiness rotten
and the heart gangrenous.
i have no wish to learn.

i do not wish to know.
i want to forget
who i was, am
and what will be.

i went down
sinking into the echo
from walls closing
around my voice

maybe
i shall stay
in the  deep
inside

with my monsters
and dreams
and wounds
and hunger

and with a light
i feel warm
and clearer
underground

away from the
difficult ways
of  scratching
with my nails

on the surface
between words
and humanity
where i lose touch

and must slide
into a mask
and steely thought
cutting myself.

i will stay in the
deep until i know
how to grow wings
made of silent light

only then
i will come up
unseen
to fly

meet me then
if you can see,
meet me in mid-air
or above the sea