there is a collapse
of walls held round the heart
and then the reflected light of the body
graces itself to love again:
a slow walk under the cool moon.
it’s not a big moment
it’s not a big event
it’s not an enlightenment
god, to only let go of that word,
we’ve all done our work!
let’s remember what we share
it’s a slow, gentle, patient falling away:
snow drifting onto parched earth
and melting in, deep, through
muscular tissues and fascia
into the cells and marrows
of memories laid down
time before time.
there’s also a sharpening to this,
a grinding away of ignorance’s block
it doesn’t all feel like snowflakes –
but this part comes with that satisfying feeling of
pulling apart pieces of old dead flesh
making way for the light to cascade through
light that is living
that’s beyond care
light just for light
it’s animal and beatific
it’s pure and it’s rude
it’s a divine melting
and a burning crash
This isn’t really for angels.
I mean, I don’t know any.
life is red and black and blue and white
and everything else for that matter
it’s a symphony
it’s all transparent