Multiply

My favourite magic trick
From the bag of the prophets
Is
Divine multiplication.
I receive love
give love
Am love
And then I spread it –
Like throwing fat fistfuls of seeds to the birds.
Then all around me happy birdsong erupts,
It tickles the ear of a poet
kindles his art
Flares up a poem that will
Set souls afire
for hundreds of years to come.

Don’t pretend helplessness.
Everything we do and don’t do
Sends out a tidal wave,
Birthing at relentless speed.

My pockets bulge with the love tokens of men and mountains,
Bones stones
seashells
Machete scars
Powdered plants,
They flow in and out of my hands
Like a stream of fresh water,
Soon dropped in another’s back pocket,
Sprinkled to the wind, lost
Or buried under a pine.

The leaves whispered to me that
When I pant in pleasure
They can breathe deeper –
Riding the same wave.
Ecstasy and oxygen.

How could I ever plead loneliness?

The open secret to magic is :
You remember the sun looks to you for light.
Each rose opens, yearning for your touch.
You remember your duty to remember,
Then act from there.


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