Friday, June 20, 2025

Last Day of Spring

My cells
                are like sails
They pick up all
                               the codes
From dolphins leaping 
                                          freely
Right in front of me
                                     brought
Like a frog a fly
                             out of the sky,

A cloud production factory
                                                 now
With a springtime's worth
                           of negative ions
To remind me where I've been
                      How much I needed
A lot of rain
                       to bloom so profuse
In such vivid purples
                                       the lupines

And behind the veiled 
                                         cigar that 
Throws off spray
                               of 12-strand DNA
It dares me to open to
                                         the cold
Of empty wind
                            blowing every note
On my reed
                      that keens freely to its
Perfect pitch
                        of very unique.

It takes the lightest breath
                                                no lung
As an accordion
                                 but the forbidden
Of all but the pure
                                  by one who has
Left behind all but that.

We are changing indeed,
                                              the container 
Ships cleaned of children
                                              and advanced
Gyroscopes put in place
                                             and no one can
Pretend anymore
                                 that Catalina's still here 
Just obscured 
                             by the day's condensation.

It has lifted like a ship,
                                          asked to navigate 
Different timelines,
                                    multiple realities.
It is OK to let ours bend, 
                                             I finally say,
Still I see the melting mirror
                                                    as a threat

But those feelings,
                                   like grief, get less
And less the more I enter
                                               the discomfort
Of not knowing how
                                       it will end
Or why it was done
                                    in the first place,

The island of knowing 
                                         gleams in the distance.
It no longer has relevance
                                                 when dolphins
Come this close to us,
                                         to show how we are
Really finally ready
                                    to be blessed.