ah, this morning, what to say,
I feel well - a boat with sails,
sails that are up to catch
whatever wind beckons my way -
I feel my legs like wands,
wanting to bring to me whatever I want.
I am stretched on synaptic stars,
eyes huge enough to hold this day
and participate in tossing petals,
so openness filters the sky to gaze.
Laughter rises in my chest like oil wells
ready to blow -
I feel new - new-found,
no prints on the sand or ground -
I pick myself up and hold myself close
like a kitten.
My feet are soft pads sliding on the floor,
legs alive like mellow trees, willows
in the marsh, willows ready to pussy
softness for my cheeks -
I am warm, like the sun, radiating warmth,
enough to share.
My mouth is moist. My teeth are strong.
My throat is open and long -
I can reach all the way down and through and see
opening right through to the floor in me -
Seeing straight through, I slide, on an inner skin,
beckoning red blood cells to wake, and party hearty with white .
I'm in the mood for softness, a pillow party,
balloons of red and white blood cells celebrating
Taxol, the Yew Tree, the You Tree, the Me Tree.
I’m celebrating trees today - the willow, the elm, the oak.
The spotted owl likes the Yew tree too.
Does my treatment endanger him and her?
Time to donate money for the planting of trees.
Taxol is a dangerous drug. It does not differentiate,
so it I who points the way, conducts. Do I put up a scarecrow
for the areas I don’t want touched. Can I keep the good guys safe?
Of course, the deer have decimated my bay trees. I have not saved them,
forgot to spray Liquid Fence, but I can do that more readily inside.
Again, I lean to know the geography of my inner body to protect,
or I can do what I did yesterday,
and trust my organism is intelligent, and knows what to do -
I seem to do better that way, rather than standing as drill sergeant,
ordering elements here and there -
The organism is intelligent. I listen to the rain, and, then, the oddest thing.
I smell baking cookies. I really do. Cookies baking in my heart,
and rising up and out of me, to you.
The imagination is strong.
If I can smell chocolate chip cookies baking,
I can ensure this drug does just what it is meant to do, and no more.
I’m sliding through more easily this time, becoming more involved in my own healing,
and bouncing red and white blood cells like balls and balloons.
Live happy, sturdy, soft, and long!