Lament by Lathalia Song
Lament
the sensation of flying
waterskyfliers and Icarus' cousin
followed birds who
fly thro air as fish swim
her feathered arms strong
above river and lake
her tears drop
whispers of gods wisdom
when earth dries and cracks
paranoia’s perpetual pattern
knots up the sunsets
drying out waters voice
the river fish
show waterskyfliers
how to move
within time
their rhythm of dancing
shouts out to the trees to
grow out of rocks
so barrenness
becomes life
with golden waters
now waterskyfliers can dance
and fly just above
the trees who taught them
to scatter palms of grief tears
into rain
flying is like falling
only you’ve done it before
know when to lift up
andfall
they brought the rain home on strings
behind them towing the clouds of tears
harnessed to souls by epic
long spirals of pi 3.14159
the consequence of which
caused the sinuosity of a meander-ing river
mapping sinews mirroring
the heat of solar
electrons in spherical harmonies
their flux
curves spacetime
into
spiraled patterns
almost undescribed
by line or square
of proven or disproven
its fluxousness tells
transcendental bridges
to count light’s steps
their life is almost always
pi
muscles that flex into electrons spaces
over a bridge of meandering light
it is almost three
lifeis3.14159
trust like a child who knows little
that skipping rope patterns
hold up the universe
while you argue over particles
and subjects, the universe implodes
and is reborn again
right under your nose!
NOT KNOWING
NOT KNOWING
notness
notes that
i do not know are
drawn up by pi’s
endless
uncertainty’s
the life of our planet
in spirals of decay and life…
skippingropepatterns
the bird with grief tails and fire wings
and a girl with an
eye on her head
endlessly catching and releasing
flung out to darkness
entombed awhile
then fully embraced
phoenix’
every incarnation honoured by
all seeing eyes from each wing
nine cycles of life and death
four remaining
the light chooses
our seasons;
fire
ashes
doom
rebirth
flames with feathered tear drops
are frozen in
endless encased eyes
seers cry
for what they see
cyclesofgrief
they found the garden
lost it in a week
veins racing fast
let go
strong gaze
at everything
from above
not within or next to
joy soaring
close to a window
a tree & around it
uplift again
no bindings
up again above it all
just us and the sky
all the rains below and within
(ps to lift off the earth
lean forward
let go
the first time is super scary)
the painful path
cemented by tears
of mortared honesty
and responsibilities work
hours hours hours hours
until we grow
the garden
nurtured by many
dead metamorphosis’
the wind of flight
and light of veils torn sharply
real
even when clouds obliterate
allkindsofsight
we are a silent garden
