Sunday, September 25, 2016

I see heaven fall like lightning

White thin blanket warmed and rough covers her
she is hiccups now, clamsweat drying, drifting in
drugged haze towards recovery from coughing up
throwing up giving up sweating shitting pain
I see the worldlines from her face like soft
sheets of purple-yellow light wisping into
the dream of her drugs working on nerves and spasms
when she opens her eyes its a green-blue-grey sliver
but not her inside there, only deeper she's there
this is the shell repairing, restoring itself
from tearing itself apart everyday even tomorrow
its normal to suffer and bleed internally, they say
she's gone to be in both worlds
sometimes I see the little dress she thinks about in these times
little. buckle shoes and misspellings and just new teeth
bad times coming later but here in her past is
a swimming pool and floating imaginary animals
and giants who rule with apologies for threats
bangs of hair and long blue-black nails on fingers
the melodies of kids shoes and Beatles and nonsense rhymes
before the pain and bleeping noise beeping and
hygiene smell of septic floors and uniforms without logos
she is girl and woman, old and innocent, shining lightning joy
wrapped in IVs and dried blood and alarming sounds and Toradol
little black thin spiders crawling through her harvesting
souls she's accumulated and turning them to pain and ache
transforming history into bile and sweat and liquid shit
skinned knees from playing on the ground and dirty hands
she looks up at him and smiles littlelife joys knowing
nothing about what's happening in his smile turned downward
as he has to leave her and leaves her there as a girl
who will learn pain and chronicity and Time eating life
so she dreams of wolves and horses sitting at a long table
debating the urgency of changing their ways before
the medicine poisons them and makes them clocks and keys
turning around faster and faster while inside she slows down
dies through the floor into a garden of larkspur and weeds
where Ruby sits with Bongo watching Computer and Timothy
and from a hole in the sky music descends in pollen and motes
her little hands shuffling deciding nothing worth worrying
she looks so small under the sheet now sleeping
she is sometimes so large in my mind for all the gravity
and orbit in my life but her like this she is small
no less pull for it, but densely divine in tiny form
helpless denied defiled disturbed—all past tense:
the light inside her is strong and healing, only
it is small for size, clumsy with fresh kittenwobbles
but bright behind the dark clouds like rising morningsun
here tired, sleeping dreaming, peopleshifting into peace
to get better

1 comment:

  1. Colleen is still in the hospital. But tonight she sounded much, much better.

    Ups and downs. Valleys and peaks. Follow the ridges, mind the gaps. Blaze down trails, walk up views. The forest calls you. The darkness now, but She brightly then will also blaze down trails with us, as we walk down the trail then, and begin the next transition to Higher Life.

    She sounded so much better tonight, and my heart was glad.


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