moss hearts

And good enough for god?

but what is?, he asked me
so i told him.
i said, these things are minuscule and full of light that is not sharp 
but moldable and very soft.
and hearts too, i suppose, if maybe god had lots of time and patience
it was said he was unceasingly forgiving, 
but i don't think he was ready for this kind of evil or this kind of love.
my heart,
my heart sometimes opens & closes, like the stubborn pleated shades with plastic on the sides, in an elderly widows apartment in southern florida.
you have to pull them apart, you've got to pull them but with delicacy.

and last night?
last night there were horses.
there was a different time and different air.
so many, most of them were very upset, angry even; fierce.
if i said they had short swirling roots on the tops of their heads
you might call them unicorn but i wouldn't like that; nor would they
these were there to hold on to, and for this purpose only.
they were waging wars and plotting revenges and us humans
were scattered about like fools, i was frightened, my knees chattered like teeth.
a white horse found me, and picked me up with its hooves
it moved its muscles to show my body how to curl into it
and we rode.
i wasn't riding the horse and the horse wasn't riding me but
we rode. everyone disapproved, the sun had its arms crossed
and we had to whisper so the other horses would never know.
sometimes we would fly, we would pick up off the ground for long moments but
he was old and it was difficult, i could feel the pain of it around his neck, my heart was a thousand pages falling.
we whispered things.
i said, you are a dove when you fly
he said there is nothing i have carried that is lighter than you
i said, you are good enough for god
and then we found him, cloud-like and infinite. 


hoist said...

"you have to pull them apart, you've got to pull them but with delicacy."

Oh ouch, oh wow.

Ned Buskirk said...


DJ Berndt said...

This is beautiful. You are a very talented poet.

wiredwriter said...

so damn sweet