sunshine is hard to let go of once you think you can hold it
when my dopamine comes back it is like
putting new strings on my violin:
where previously i had to bear down on the bow to make sound at all,
the instrument now speaks before i move to touch her.
sometimes i think i am a weather station. the guard in my building
calls me sunshine. when it is raining he asks me to work my magic.
my system can sense the sun and comes to life,
and it can sense the shortening of days and hibernates.
i cannot change the weather, unfortunately. i adapt to it,
a bit too well most of the time, maybe my brain knows
it is nothing itself – and reflects something for the sake of it.
symbols of spring become otherworldly to me:
in march one can find me in central park, leaning over crocuses
and whispering prayers to them. i will tramp through brushy
wilderness to follow kinglets, or a butterfly.
i am reading a book about why it is so hard
for me to let go of my tumbling moods.
the author likens it to drug addiction,
i.e. my brain makes me high,
so when i am up, i am far, far up, floating between pregnant stars
and glowing galaxies, skipping stones on saturn’s rings, scuba diving
in jupiter’s gas, always bouncing back to the glowing pulsation
of burning energy. that is hard to let go of
putting new strings on my violin:
where previously i had to bear down on the bow to make sound at all,
the instrument now speaks before i move to touch her.
sometimes i think i am a weather station. the guard in my building
calls me sunshine. when it is raining he asks me to work my magic.
my system can sense the sun and comes to life,
and it can sense the shortening of days and hibernates.
i cannot change the weather, unfortunately. i adapt to it,
a bit too well most of the time, maybe my brain knows
it is nothing itself – and reflects something for the sake of it.
symbols of spring become otherworldly to me:
in march one can find me in central park, leaning over crocuses
and whispering prayers to them. i will tramp through brushy
wilderness to follow kinglets, or a butterfly.
i am reading a book about why it is so hard
for me to let go of my tumbling moods.
the author likens it to drug addiction,
i.e. my brain makes me high,
so when i am up, i am far, far up, floating between pregnant stars
and glowing galaxies, skipping stones on saturn’s rings, scuba diving
in jupiter’s gas, always bouncing back to the glowing pulsation
of burning energy. that is hard to let go of
|
six principles of growing
1: you grow any way you like.
down, over, towards, warm, light, near, gentle,
i grow gentle into that dark air just as i grow,
gentle, into that dark earth, why does the outer
moon feel closer than the inner magma
2: you may but need not harvest.
a flower dies before it is picked.
this is appropriate. the beauty of
vegetables is that you eat them
before you can observe what you
have done to their life.
3: when it does not rain, you water.
the creek still runs when rain does not fall.
the river still runs when the creek is dry.
when the river no longer runs, there is
the lake. i am a firm believer that
we are not doomed until
all the oceans are dry.
4: nothing does not grow
nothing can grow from nothing,
and no thing
does not grow.
5: anything is a weed in the wrong place
when i grow up i will plant a raised bed
with only witchgrass and dandelions.
they will belong there. i will not
mow them down.
6: when the sun does not shine, you wait
down, over, towards, warm, light, near, gentle,
i grow gentle into that dark air just as i grow,
gentle, into that dark earth, why does the outer
moon feel closer than the inner magma
2: you may but need not harvest.
a flower dies before it is picked.
this is appropriate. the beauty of
vegetables is that you eat them
before you can observe what you
have done to their life.
3: when it does not rain, you water.
the creek still runs when rain does not fall.
the river still runs when the creek is dry.
when the river no longer runs, there is
the lake. i am a firm believer that
we are not doomed until
all the oceans are dry.
4: nothing does not grow
nothing can grow from nothing,
and no thing
does not grow.
5: anything is a weed in the wrong place
when i grow up i will plant a raised bed
with only witchgrass and dandelions.
they will belong there. i will not
mow them down.
6: when the sun does not shine, you wait