Equal to the great things
are the little
are the little
Gestures from which
come the big bangs
come the big bangs
Small at
First, a slight touch even
First, a slight touch even
Half of that or more
around, even your name,
around you, any thought,
and I'm derailed
lost in that drifting mind of mine
every moment of your presence a gift
to be in love again, feel that
madness of ink, words such as these
I can not say Leslie-I-Love-You
Or your face twists in anger so
Instead I'll label them
things from inside become
Thinks-About-Your-Heart
things made for becoming overwhelmed
things made for becoming overwhelmed
By the light in your eyes
And the warmth of your smile become
Birds-Inside-The-Sun
I did not think it would be again
the land of words dripping
off my breathing tongue
the land of words dripping
off my breathing tongue
Its my imagination with little threads of you
slivers of beauty
a gift that comes from
trying to reimagine your touch
And I know the roads my words and mind
Travel are not to be roads with you
But I know I don't turn here
Without you having been there...
all these words
from the source of my imagining
electricity
whatever it was, illuminating...
It was you Birds-Inside-The-Sun,
Your eyes upon me, you are:
leave and nothing knows-
your eyes upon me, you were:
learn anything new.
Learning your breath upon my life.
I thank you
For this awakening.
The sky above my head, the dirt on my feet,
The poetry on my tongue,
The place I'm in, the space
I'm breathing in, this elevated imagination,
I only got here because of you.