In dream, look at those throbbing hills,
They've got you hypnotized they are
Still and real as a newspaper photo
And the scars on Brio's face, just enough
To feel love from Navajo, the Appaloosa
Apollo dropped beside him for repair
Like an Airstream, so grateful to have
A companion at last, who, with doe-eyed
Eagerness bit his eager eyeball.
But Merlin, Navajo's version of me, is on the scene
Like camo security, to stare down the mayhem
And tighten the valve of the crazy snake nozzle
In the always-full trough of emotional commotion,
Because all water rolls down the mountain to here.
"Hell I get a little spicy over dinner too."
Sez Merlin! You can't make this shit up.
The galactics must have us on speed dial
For the guffaws we provide, how straight
Our faces can bend to not remembering.
"How can you know what happened to them,"
They always ask, "unless it has happened to you?"
Even Quan Yin requires a giant pile of shit
For all the tears she needs to cry
To learn compassion through her suffering,
So she can spark life into things
By feeling what they feel, as the cow horses
Rein like whirling dervishes and the deer
Disappear in the grass.
A sawhorse holds a saddle.
I look for guidance
In the hair whorl of the sorrell, eye level
Of the peaceful mind. But it's just another
Scam of belief in what you see,
When helicopters and waterfalls
Whirr by you unnoticed all day
Behind cellophaned microphones,
While the Urmah hide like mountain lions
And the dragons only emerge from their holes
Sculpted in the sandstone when the sun falls.
They know in this way one comes to believe
And thus can re-solve the past and re-wire
What happened with what should have been.
Reality has broken just in time.
We were worried
Our interpretations may have missed the point.
But then we passed, in a reality no one
Who was not then with us would believe,
Creation Corner, in the rich hills, teaching
How to manifest abundance when they're young.
