Years On, And I Am Still Greening.

[Guest guest]

Years On, And I Am Still Greening

Beloved, years on, and I am still greening

in the same field of your planting.

The world has been sleeping in my eye.

Great trees, washing rivers

and high flung heaps of mountains,

molehills and mayflies -

Have turned not at all

in this iota of my life in your seed.

What is the push birthing of this angel

of your morning? What the dawning

that awakens in every instant the green bud

of my wonder?

Mighty wheels have turned, and I am

not moved, but unwind inwards to be

your stillness.

Skin, sky and filament of one body

turning in my earth -

Falling into birth

and taken to be mindless.

Love misplaces this fleeting life and unmasks me.

Unmakes me in the minding of this moment.

How like a tramp steaming by memory

I plowed the wave of me.

Yet where did this cargo unload and go?

Where the high harbors once sought?

The golden apples of time have all fallen

and bob upon your instants ocean

to be consumed by the fish of Jesus

as he fished for my floundered soul

and found me wanting on your shore

as only his love.

The freeway took me to be free.

The wind took me to be this passion

in the mouth of Gods uncreated poem.

I am rags flying in the face

of an unspeakable beauty.

See me speak and disappear in every word

as I flash in the lightening of this rapture

that wing-flaps and unwraps my heart

in the joy juice of your watering.

No more for me the walk about way

as a living in the life-span.

I have lost my deaths head wanting.

I have lost my way in this loving

and have found a drop of dew

upon your lips, that I must kiss each moment

to be your taste in all this flood and flotsam

that is the gift of drowning.

Years on, and I am still greening.

My ark has broken upon the breakers of eternity,

and from that sea rocked ramshackle shell

of my making, the singing tree of your life

has made of me an olive in the still press

of your mill and plant, and I am ground out from this oil

to be the flowing of the blood of your heart.

I am the meadow that never dries

but is flourished in your womb

to be this flower of love that is always now.

Always the green birth of my time

in the open sky country of your one life.

love

eric