Clarity - Bliss
2023
Not sandalwood or candle wax
Hotmolded to your palms
But embers in the spine
And resting on your brow
And not unheaviness in sitting
Or thinkingly considering
Smoke trails superfinite
And walking on a breeze
But moresharpness in your gut
From falling falling free
And crashing into nowness
With no cashmere then between
It buzzes and it sings
It is emptied in the bowels
It sinks and then it rises
And presses time like flowers
On everpassing moments
Closing on themselves
An everlasting moment
Still open, still resolved
It is an us that self-perceiving
Gives way to never-doubt
An I that opens thereness
In the heart of now
But still
It is a San Francisco fog
And noxiousness itself
A miasma in the veins
That strangles every doubt
In which the open morning glory
Encloses all its petals
On the dark peculiar secrets
Of its quiet stem
And pushes stamens better hidden
To a lightening end
So much the fragrance it emits
Encircles curious eyes
With valleys of illusion
And salted niceties
So much does caution fail
Welcoming its grace
To cure the shaded mountain
Of its perversities