somewhere

Posted on July 26, 2012 by Susan L Daniels 


somewhere between us

i feel seconds stretch more than miles;

have fingers I count on, sufficient to span distance in hours,

never expecting joy to wing so far, recklessly

travelled, across so many borders


gladly i would leap days to touch

beyond this ticking and wound thing, time;

any space becoming collapsible moments, past

experience, to flower hope to wonder


your spirit and mine twinning and braided; these

eyes blinded by brightness, snow blindness in winter sun,

have left us reeling and senseless to this,

their purpose, a perfect resonating

silence: together.


***an acrostic from my favorite e.e. cummings poem:
"somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence."

Hope you like my experiment.

							

	
			

													
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				Posted on July 26, 2012 by Susan L Daniels			


					

				
Guys–this is–perfect.

							

	
			

													
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Wow–this is a nice, even round number!


			

				Posted on July 26, 2012 by Susan L Daniels			


					

				


This is a great number of readers to have–it is so nice and round…


Thanks, Whimsy Mimsy, for rounding that number up!

							

	
			

													
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paint those toenails green


			

				Posted on July 25, 2012 by Susan L Daniels			


					

				
for Nancy


for so long living

in the third person


so many masks

all of them polished

& too smooth


to match the raw

in your eyes


take them off

& greet your true face

in your mirror


reflected there honestly

no distortion

no bent light


when you are done looking

& like who you see


put something dangerously pink

behind your ear


something wild

& blooming unplanned

in that manicured garden


& paint your toenails green

for the surprise of it


flaunt that

twist of the unexpected


for no other reason

than because you can

							

	
			

													
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an earthy spirituality


			

				Posted on July 25, 2012 by Susan L Daniels			


					

				
we call this mud

that springs us

vulgar

common


as if

we can unchain

self from flesh

with a shrug

or shudder


flex that divine breath

to break through substance

like a chrysalis

& wing into air

weightless


no, this spirit

has a body

and the body

owns spirit


temporarily


feet planted in

still more mud


and so we

base married to ether

can braid these together

or set them at war


even as they speak

in similar whispers:


sung by soul

desire

is simple base want


& what is said prettier

as yearning

is this matter’s need


both reaching toward

& perhaps holding together


us

							

	
			

													
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thoughts in a field


			

				Posted on July 25, 2012 by Susan L Daniels			


					

				
you cannot get closer

to soil than this

unless you are mining

or buried


at work in a field

like this one

ignoring bees

intent on

searching out sweet

drawn by perfumed soap

and blue t-shirts


buzz disappointment

when they land on cotton

not petals, and keep seeking

tasting our sweat

instead of nectar


if you look up

from pulling

thistles from celeriac

carefully


just once


watch land planted in rows

ripple under sun,

swell and fall in a tide to the woods

and, further back

foothills rolling like larger waves


breaking day against sky

in ringing deeper blueness


you will say like water

earth moves in waves

only too slowly

for our senses to catch


me, I want

to swim in it

							

	
			

													
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				Posted on July 25, 2012 by Susan L Daniels			


					

											

	
			

													
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