The trees gaze at me with the tips of their leaves
So my legs can carry me with confidence
In their presence,
But my head— how is it that it grieves
That it cannot bring itself to experience
What it experiences?

Wild sage— I breathe in the smell of its glory
Blueberries— I pick them and they paint my hands;
I taste their sour sweetness
If I were alone, it would be a different story:
I would bask in the company of the gods
Without the demand for swiftness

So I pretend I feel how the grass is alive
"I feel the rays, I feel the water, I am alive myself,
Blessed as I'd always been"
I pretend that since I'm in nature, I am here to thrive,
But they never tire when I tire, they are a reminder
That I'm forever to be seen

Their faces are my enemies, they seem to have fun,
But every other minute I locate their loaded gun
And it locates me, but I scramble, endlessly I run
"This is no vacation," I cry, "when I can't befriend the Sun"

Perpetuum mobile… and I never get to stop;
The trees are so far away, mountains up so high,
Impossible to climb
And like me, they continue with each sweat's drop;
The trees shake and the mountains rattle,
Everything moves but time

People are poison and yet people are wonder
Family is chains and yet they're the only closeness I get,
Only love I imagine
Is it love if it persists even as my head grows sonder?
Is it life if as time perishes, I don't stop to think?
"Rest" but no, I spin

Everything can freeze, but they never will;
They are ever-burning, dangerous to touch,
Sensitive senselessly
I have no permission to dig while they are still,
But they are allowed to pick at my skin and deny
Any depth in me

Let me befriend grass in the silence of afternoons
Perpetuum mobile, but let my feelings create dunes
Perpetuum mobile, but let me move inside as moons
Spin around an orbit of my own and in tune



© shishmish