summoning

Summer
What is this
Urge to speak
Without
The escape
Of sound
To jarr
The silence.

Just the echo
Of your words
Slipping
In
To everyday
Time

Summer
What funny
End
Risen
To this erratic
Year
Where
Myticism
Spills
Across
The frontier of
Our beings
Booming
From our
Lucid chests

Press
Just enough
To keep us
Stepping
Further into
This dance

How sprightly
Alive these words
Seem
Look!

Which one
Us is whom

Who Rumi
Who Tabriz

Summer.
Where do you come from?

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One thought on “summoning

  1. danger lightning says:

    From the song the little girl sings
    From the radiance that quenches and springs
    From lyres to flutes and sitars
    Strings accompanying veenas
    From within
    From where you seclude and mourn
    From where I muster and swim
    From where this reality ends
    And ours begins

    Forget Rumi and Tabriz
    A serpent dance, a striking hiss
    Cautious to label this
    Lest it conforms
    When it ought to morph
    Into any season it fancies
    And race with wolves in the woodland
    March with mares on the plains
    Soar with eagles amongst peaks
    Asleep while standing

    I come from a refection of you
    From an aspect without ratio
    From a legless flamingo
    From the effort you exert
    Zeitgeist subvert

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