The Blue Dress for Weddings
feel me crumble
disheveled, poised to reinvent
just like yesterday,
can you forgive my previous
failed attempts?
I'll always keep coming back
to you
and all the swirling overload,
I'll plow in spite of rocks
and plant in spite of drought
laugh in spite of pain
and dance in spite
of silence -
eventually if we
(that's you and I)
press forward
but remembering to
sometimes not press,
well then
we'll get back to harmony.
It'll be nice
to discover it in our lives
rather than expire
this present form
without a sense
and then return to it anyway
like we always will
Build us of strong brick
laid by thoughtful hands,
spice us with blind
loving, dextrous
kitchen goddesses
slake us with hurricanes
humid mornings
and the first raindrops
in a hot afternoon garden
move our spirits
like a feverish dervish
and a child playing
by the river
singing to herself as she
perches
on the rocks
illuminate our paths
like sparkling all-knowing satellites
and divining rods
and tattered salty familiar maps
and tea leaves,
thoughtfully read before
dumped on the ancient garden
bass and treble
comingle and fade,
no more yin and yang
as the child has smoothed the
colors
with his tiny finger
and created
something bigger than us
pulling the curtains
wide, sunset pours in as I
rub your tired, warm feet
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