Kit Kelen #1156 - a moment in the garden

1156

a moment in the garden

where the bush looks in

big gold rise

and there are little mountains, floods

we uninvent all sorts

everyone here is from a dream

feathered for the overview

fire is a fear but not at this moment

dead things are rotting our way

that’s soil come likewise alive

come cloud, throw down some dotted line

no one sees the turning

each makes the difference

does the now, walks the worn way

home, as of the heart sat up

surely the moon meant bone to be

but nothing told – there are no years

no seconds, hours, the counting

never began in the bush

but truth crept now occasional

and then we’d have to paint it

fond frond and tendril to the touch

hands in this brew of the fallen rose up

over leaf and under rock

we all of us bend to this shape

our making – every other eye upon

my hubris here

it takes a calling form

consider all this given

outside, the muffled voices

dangerous turn, who’s fallen to fences?

it’s everyone’s own guess

nothing rusts but we have left

between the was and what will be

we lodge like light and glow to know 

a question marks the place

the antidote – to stretch, just be

days and nights and lives let

I keep the lemon happy

I flower, run the swamp hens

ages are in and blow me away

the garden is a history

the bush crept timeless to

take a blade or blunt

the inch down dug, turned

all little worlds, so say

these are the works and days

of here and now

if this is the garden

as never before

you won’t catch me

I’m gone