If language should go

If language should go the other way,
I reckon I know what it would say:
sun to galaxy, star to moon,
tomorrow is yesterday, now is soon.
If money is mother, then father is dead,
notice the sign once you've banged your head.
You only grow when you're in the ground,
you learn to speak when you can't make a sound.

When up is around and down is through,
take great care of last century's truth.
None of it's yours, it will never be mine,
all of it's owned by the lie of time.

If  presence of fear is the absence of you
just open your hand: there's the cosmic glue.
The dance is the plan, there's no floor at all:
we drift across to another hall.
But there the music is not what we like
so we keep on searching throughout the night.

Moon to finger, sunset to birth
and nothing at all to planet Earth.
Mother to meaning, daughter to wedding,
father arriving and maid to bedding.

So from is for never and go is stop.
R is for random and H is for hop.
L is for learning and Z is for gravy
B is for finding the shade of the navy.

If language would go the other way,
I think I know what it should say.
M is for meaning and S for escape,
T for breaking the winner's tape.

If language could go the other way
I have no doubt what it would say.

Waterfall

I don't think that water understands
commitment.

I don't think that bodies have to
believe.

When you love,
you run towards that
focus:

it's blessed whether it's a
cause, child, or
bird somehow
settling in your sphere of
knowing.

I have many waterfalls
rushing,
within,
and  I am constantly
tipping beyond all
language.

Rather than nothing, I am
too much and can't be held back
willingly.

Some have called it impatience
but this movement within and about me
doesn't agree.

Sleep, dream.

I know you, and we're walking through something
not so solitary,
but we don't take dreams
seriously.

When we wake, every morning,
recognition rises,
and that makes a kind of
meaning.

Sleep into that deep dream we don't
know about.
Although we do, I've heard a message,
but that's very
private.

Around us, beware, right now there are
fires, and fears running riot.

Well, fire may consume,
but fear,
that's  a part of many dreams that may be
dismissed.

I have a new voice that helps me
to discover this.

We need to sleep.
In the dreaming
things happen,
I can't describe them all.

But our bodies are filled,
renewed.

Thats's not a sense of reality worth
watching,

It happens
all the time.

Through the door.

You may have been told you arrive and
leave the planet, and the doors are
birth and death.

I have a different sense:
you, yourself are the door through which
universal fire stares out,
seeing itself in everyday sunlight,
searching itself in stars that are long-gone,
circling itself in uncountable constellations.

Have you listened to the comforting crackle
of wintry sparks and embers in the grate?
Take a moment to hear the sun:
it may be possible to learn the message of that
savage sound beating in the skin.

The heat of your body has to come from somewhere,
the heart's hinges are not entirely
up to us.

Standing in the doorway,
I know that geometry has gone to every shape and place and
come back to where I am.
The mathematics of time can't
explain my constant centigrade,
and neither can I.

It doesn't make sense to wait
for death. We come and
go in ways that have
much to say.