At a certain phenomenon of light #NationalPoetryMonth #NaPoWriMo

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At a certain phenomenon of light

In the jazz of listening to your jazz
It was a peacock’s cry
It was a re-statement of romance

When you thought romance was dead
And in perceiving this, I best
Perceive and listen to myself
Nor night nor blue, I exchange with pale light
My needs for the universe

I am an anecdote on how
To address clouds, elicit
The funest philosophers to speak from the dead

I am a promenade in mortal rendezvous
That lead nowhere, essentially
Converging upon oneself
In the streets and orchid sellers
In the women who blow kisses with just a look

They are young and do not hold candles
But I can feel evolution’s
Arrogance in their firm bodies

It’s not divine ingenuity then
To take one last look at the lilacs
Or in the hymeneal air search for a fragrance
That might help me remember
Earth, lavender, fantastic star

Looking for a Saturday metaphor
To describe the twenty bridges of feeling
The nuance of how meaning escapes
And time floods like ancient aspects.

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