these two eyes
one sees from the soul
the other's vision
comes from the mind
they cross when
they disagree with
what's in sight
a true deliberation
of the meaning
of any interaction
with the external world
they roll when
they are chasing after
whatever they think
may be important
to self preservation
they wink when
they want the other
to miss something
the one wants to focus on
and they cry when
they agree
same in essence
the tiny sparks
seen in the dark
when static shines
in fabric friction
the great energy
that rolls in sound
and flashes light
when the turning
of the earth rock
pulls at the ocean
levitating in the air
and the same spark
illuminates the sky
to behold what flows
through everything
in grandest display
a show of bolts and
music of the gods
nine is the mirror
mine is the nearer
to your breath
holding the two mirrors
your birth is given
the moment I hold
nearly as dear as
a time of two dimes
and if all this was true
I'd somehow make it through
and give into you
for you to count
the fingers on my month
that's half of your own
and offer up to you
my crown and my throne
those thoughts of
liliums replacing alliums
means someone may be
middle aged that is
if that someone lives
to be the ripe old age
of ninety, nine, a good
year it was to complete
high school and live
a surreal moment when
congratulations met
graduations, a time
of year for towns to
get wiped off the map
and more than a whirlwind
meets schedules for
grandparents and estranged
relatives, it's all relative
but merely a distraction
just above my head
hovers a swarm of gnats
notes bouncing up and
down a music scale
unheard by these ears
further out from these
little songbirds flutter
through arms of trees
and maple seeds are
flung by the breeze
propelling through air
to find their retreat
higher yet the raptor
surveying as it sails
through the gray waves
of the mirrored ocean
and my arms reach out
to wish the rise above
or the fall from earth
into whatever exists
far beyond any of this
