The Deep Sound

To stop the tearing at the flesh
On my hands
I trimmed my nails and bandaged them

But I was a sailor lost in a storm
who could not bring down his sails
before they were shredded
By the wind

And my hands mime what my heart would speak
In purposeless motion
They destroy themselves to hear

the innermost secrets known to the tree known by the ocean
The copper roses in the night garden

Why stop my tears
I speak aloud to myself
And the mouths of mirrors in this house
Show me a stranger
I know I am not her
but the voice
Of my body
Like a very black bird
Rides the wind currents
Likes shiny objects like my soul

We labor and live
In the geometry of shells
To hear the answer we are deaf to
In its many sacred forms

I am not a rock
I can’t wait here  while the water carves me
I want an answer now
Are you cruel am I an echo
Is suffering part of being
Is patience another part of being

I have a friend that went to a room
In the hospital
She sat cross legged on a desk
There was a spirit in the corner
Her body was in another room breaking down into death

She had no questions
She was happy to sit cross legged on the desk
With the spirit in the corner

Maybe there is an answer
Here and not here but
All at once the deep sound

we seem to be like flickering candles
In and out of forever

I once asked my mother
Does childbirth and labor hurt bad
She said yes it does
But don’t worry
after it is over
You won’t remember a thing

Maybe this is life
We are here for awhile
And grow very attached
But don’t worry
after it is over
We won’t remember a thing

Our trapped nowhere is not everywhere
For our everywhere is the center
Of everything

Like clothes in a dark closet we hang
Waiting for life
Waiting for reason to rhyme

But the deep song
Has made our souls to hear
and sometimes not hear it
As the earth spins in its orbit
And many stars spin with it
Just sing
And offer all you have to it’s love
It is listening