sigh language

The best gesture of my brain is less than 
your eyelids’ flutter which says 
we are for each other 
– E.E. Cummings 

The earth laughs in flowers. 
– Ralph Waldo Emerson 

Philosophy is the talk on a cereal box…
Edie Brickell

::

dandelion fluff is the stuff 
of legend, stories puffed to sky 
for all to see. we 
wish upon these fuzzy stars
, 
a loose eyelash flash. that bull
-frog’s bubble is a giggle waiting. 
he’s got a song, too, and we’re 
listening. 

the sky speaks morse, 
norse, greek, every sharp and 
sharded syllable in between. we’ll dot 
(our eyes) and dash across 

this scrim, cross our tease 
and learn the languid language 
of the moon. we swoon
at the way she commands the tides
, 
strides across the sky like 
she owns the joint, reveling 
in another’s shine. we pine 
for the para(chute)-phrase 

of clouds. did i say that aloud? 
or can you read my petalled lips, 
these tiny slips of paper i scribble 
to the sun? 

there’s only one thing left 
to say, i guess. the rest can
wait. we can sit here and de
-bate all day
, 
argue the way the snap 
(crackle, pop) of wrist twists 
the words just so. we can 
go a long (long long) time 

silent. we can decipher violence
from a storm, or violet sky 
hope. and just one native tongue 
remains: love reigns. 

::

PAD Challenge, day 3.

Advertisement