Only the embers shape lifting into a temporary triangle
a flame with careful breath intent on expression
of circular gestures delivered along specific occilation
of tethered reflections spoke
in the language I knew in a instant.
they speak still,
in the seasons,
human attempt to reach
a new distillation that points to the infinite
I couldn't tell anyone,
that these were the simplest of my ideas
when I broke my chains,
the ones my father used
to try to tie me to
a tree in the backyard.
It was the moving parralells
overlaping into helix's
that grounded the loose strings
into a coherent calls.
It was the branches in the trees,
the spinning leaves,
the whispered notes
cascading out of possibilty
towards uncontained actualizations.
I have been running in a dance
, an endless shape caressing fenced hellos
, Banging on doorways
in patient bursts,
until I timed out
the arrival of light,
in order to learn
my travel lessons.
leaving notes, so we might remain
a little longer in the senses of now