Wet Grass

Wet grass, like satin flowing on the soles
of these, my feet. The lightning and the thunder
have expelled all thoughts of never quite enough.
And oh the mist that's left - so glorious -
its coolness lightly touching o'er my skin.

Heat flash for too long left unattended.
Full of pain and need, that awesome touch
of heat that we once found a way to quench -
together. You feel it too. I know you do.

And no matter what you choose to do these days,
there is a greater part of you that's crying out
in need yet once again. The flesh, this ever heated
cooling flame. Found once within a lifetime
when so many others tell us that we need
to be yet bound to something other than our selves.

Family ties, the years and million moments
of our trials in reality of love's experience.
Exasperation that abounds in rounds of this -
the greatest of depressions yet to come.
Individuals that claim they know so many
other ways to make it so much better than it is .
Who now, shall we believe in...?

When all we really need is just to grieve.
So many losses, unabsorbed through years
of tears we never dared to cry. So much
abstention from the lives we really need
to live - all caused by that depression
of emotions that we really need to face,
inside ourselves.

Some time alone - oh no! oh yes!
And then just make another educated guess
that leads to more and more of just the same.
We've lost the balance of the opposites
that all of life must be in order
to acheive a sense of harmony.

Do you remember any more than those dry
histories of Western oriented culture?
The Yin and Yang, and then the flow -
we must be free to move -
within the groove where our hearts
always come back to.

Contracts and efficiency. Let's make it all
into no more than just another large
and growing machination. Lubricate the parts -
it's not enough. Run the press,
and watch it all break down without
those many pauses that life needs
to really understand the everything.

Wet grass, like satin flowing on the soles
of these, my feet. Reminding me of all the love
that used to feel so sweet.  The lightning
and the thunder have expelled all thoughts
of never quite enough.  And oh the mist
that's left - so glorious - its coolness
lightly touching o'er my skin.

It is moments just like these when we
remember all the little things that love
must always bring. Satin flowing, once
again - from these, the hands that love
life most of all...

? Michaelette ?

8/14/2002
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