My Morning Flow!!

Ode to James Frey

 
Today, Jane,
did Tai Chi under the Mulberry tree
in the rain,
with Jim -
I want to say I did, but I didn’t -
I was tucked in bed,
not out under a tree in the rain,
a Mulberry tree,
doing Tai Chi -
I can imagine myself doing it,
swirling around like an umbrella,
to pause -
I have seen people doing Tai Chi,
I know rain,
and,
I know Jim and Jane -
I am not actually intimate though,
with a Mulberry tree, so,
I hesitate. 
Though I love the sound of the words,
doing Tai Chi in the rain,
under a Mulberry tree,
today, I lay in bed,
with Steve and Mandu,
and listened to the cozy sound
of rain just pattering down
like words that are true
to their form.

 


today Jane is thinking about roots,
and I am thinking
about the center of my chest,
my sternum -
I want to reach out with my heart,
like a huge drum,
and gong a beat so strong,
you march with me
and I, with you -
I hear the music of Sousa.
I am a parade of many, of One,
the stars caught in my hair,
(whoops, fiction now, not memoir -
at least, I can remember what it is like to have hair -
I had hair, once, and will presumably again.)
like sparklers,
lit on the seeds
that spun
in the air
when life
was first
begun -

Ah, beating heart
I hear you,
honor you,
reverence
you -

Am I my heart?

Is my heart
an antenna,
beaming, and receiving
the pulse
that parts
and brings together
like the opening and closing
of the anemone,
the tides
of the sea,
the blood, the pulse,
the salt,
operating
in and out
of me, not-me?
Is there a me,
or only connection
defined by you?
Are we containers
rocking
the waves
to be,
like babies,
swaying in baskets,
from trees?