with ease or burden
matters not
so long as one voice
harmonizes our sails
so be our time fulfill’d
whose needs
be overtaken
by its own overBirth
yet what of microcopics
and their microscopics?
a universe in a drop
of Nothingness
Beginning and End
found in empty baskets
on Time’s doorstep—
a trial of credence
his yawn
churning froth
across charging swells
a dare
against th’ impudence
of uncaring loneliness
a smile
in defeat or victory
a rematch
certainly more
even beyond Mr. Sun’s
undressing gray for blue
her palms and finger’s
kung fu flyers
flailing from her body
hitting me
hurting me
without touching me
later
my penitence
my standing
on a breath of bend’d knee
flutter’d before her eyes
till we both surrender’d
embrac’d
and cultivat’d smiles
on deaf hands
my hide
though bronz’d
by the seasons
manicur’d
be crawlers and flyers
and autographers
still holds fast on firm feet
generations
of admirers
of passing glances
have I outliv’d
and might someday
my leaves never reawaken
your memories
your snapshots
be bless’d
for making me immortal
sensing
no one
nothing
nowhere but here
now this is dancing
