and flying things

and on the roadside there are lizards. perched like birds on sticks, they whisper their silences and dart off into hidden places, for they are the shooting stars of the earth. the vertebra of a dead deer drying in the sun, calls out to you with its ghost sounds...and the bugs upon the bones' white ocean death, remind you of a certain story of a certain little girl who put a certain ant in a certain jar of juice on a certain plane, to keep it alive until earth was once again beneath her feet. the butterflies cling to dry grass as the wind tickles them and teases them. lusts for them. oh the things we see with eyes spead open jumping from place to place on this giant spinning ball of dirt and water and salt, with hearts ticking and breaking and loving and stopping. and oh so many other things. sometimes, you go away for a weekend and return to find that your entire world appears to have changed color and shape. it was once a brown bear, lumbering through the thick of forest, and now it is a white bird in the sky, wings laced red with fire. it shall burn and burn and in it's quick mortal gasping, you won't see where it is going. it will blind you and you will fall upon knees to kiss the ground. oh dear ground let my lips carress the belly of your soul and embrace these new places, this new land of sky and clouds and flying things. a wedding and a million moments that seem to shift instantaneously the place where my eyes land. land land land, oh how i love thee. tomorrow, i will drive to davis, and ride my bike for hours and hours and hours in the hot sun, on the vast expanse of flat cement. it will carry on before my eyes, as my life does with body in tow. feet hands heart head toes legs everything tied up in a ball of wonder and mystery. where will it go next? where?

Posted by jeff at May 27, 2003 10:54 PM

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