New Poem: Dreams at the Source

Dreams at the Source

I saw the hand glowing
Purple on its edges,
The delicate triangle
Of the palm revealed
The color of the sun
As it hangs just above
The horizon.

Gold coins,
Tiny Jupiters,
Polished red apples.
Cherries hanging
From thick black chains,
Above jewel encrusted vases.

Ice shards crack underwater.
Under these frozen swells
Creatures the color of pomegranates
Open yawning mouths, in some places
Too dark to see. This is the only Flower
That blooms at night,  in this place.

Feathers glued to the skin
Of the man’s arms and legs.
He puts on a long blue mask
Decorated with green paint
And teeth. He puts on his sheepskins
Dyed In deep crimson
And dances in front  of the mirror,
Chants and feels all the hands
Raised above heads waving
Ecstatic in their rhythms.

In the room she held her doll tightly.
Small colored worlds floated
around her, each with its own
word written on it. One floated
close then lingered  in front
of her wide eyes. She was not afraid.

Another sphere drift past
And inside she saw a spiral
And in front of the spiral a boy
Holding a yellow light in his arms.


Stair by stair, he ran
up the spiraling stairs
Towering into the clouds
With hints of blue and gray.
Below him children sat in circles
Comparing their bug collections.
Above his head a jet soared by.
Above his shoulder, the moon.


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