Sunday, June 24, 2012
William's Blake's image of Albion from his
A Large Book Of Designs
I am channeling her river of sadness.
I heard her voice and knew I was home.
We break the speed of sound when allowing another person inside our Fortress of Solitude.
Standing by the river’s edge; sediment creeping between my toes.
I am lost in Mother Nature’s embrace, knowing full well civilization over stepped a long time ago.
I know she is a healer and that the cakes she bakes are edible poetry.
I cannot recall the last time I went the distance.
It has been too long since I shared my innermost secrets with an intimate stranger.
Falling in love with happenstance a fool’s errand and I’m tired of running that marathon solo.
I am channeling the sweltering heat of her beloved country.
I heard her animal symphony and knew I was heading in a positive direction.
We must break on through to the other side if we ever wish to share actual love in these strange times.
Her river of sadness is not about misfortune or placing blame.
Her river of darkness has nothing to do with justifying anything or locating an escape hatch.
Her river of light shines brighter than the Sun and understands just what is meant by a Glad Day.
Charles Cicirella 6/24/12