I have been indulging in
An outrageous liaison with
My inner monk.
Oblivious to the outside world
(But what is outside?)
We dissolve into the divine
Riding the words of poets
And the horn building on my fingertips.
My body quietly allows
As all hours of the day and night
Watch us lighting candles on the floor
In bursts of erratic sound and silence.
We pick up masks of god
To show each other, giggling and weeping.
“Know that one?”
We are 4-year olds comparing notes
On the shapes of the clouds,
Giddy and absorbed in our serious business.
Pouring the unsayable into chords
And all the words hanging unspoken
In clouds of rhyming radiance,
Winking – are you getting the joke?
Unexpected birds swoop in,
Pick their way through
A colorful clutter
Of razor-sharp heartache shards,
Beams of light landing in the bathtub,
The insisting pounding of fists on the door,
a few miracles that have sniffed us out.
“Hey, we know you’re in there,
Up to something!”