we let
light in,
open the
shutters,
with
widening
pupils, the
dark
still in
us, we breathe,
jump into
the day
but carry a
fence
to exclude
the hole
in which we
fall
at night,
in dream,
we walk on the
rope
as we were
taught
in the
illusion of
balance,
half our
strength
spent with
the hope
not to die
and slowly
we find
that the
moon and
the sheep
bleating
in the
black fields
where we
lost us
and all
paths,
are a well,
deep
and filled
with power,
not a gap
nor weakness
but past
and wishes
not yet
embraced
and so we
are half
busy
pulling up
the corners
of
our tight
lips
for a false
smile
this and
not wrinkles
causes fear
of mirrors,
they say
too much,
we are
naked
and after we
are sad
instead of
being inspired
to bring up
the water
fill our hands, fill our souls
we feel
ridiculous
for staying in a cage
but could
drop it
and fly and
fall
through
space
stretching
out
in widening
rings
in uncovered flow,
we could
grow,
laugh on clumsiness,
vulnerable
but open,
being rope
and wings
carried by
the river
which is us
and all,
and the
monsters
will turn
into flowers
in the
orchards,
where apple
blossoms
fall in
delicate time,
fragrant
and slow, so slow
and it will
be as a first
time to
come to us,
the wonder
of alchemy,
the secret
life of stars.
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