Against Anxiety

You go with the push

of irregular winds,

with sun a brilliance

and a sorrow,

with a drifting of old friends

and a sprouting of new.

 

You go beneath

the beckoning moon,

under the stoic moon,

below the amber moon

and the unfathomable sky.

 

The rhythm in your ears is the throb

and drum of other hearts,

the wax and wane of yours,

the hum of remix and renewal.

 

You go to dream the dreams of others

and to find that they dream yours,

and you and they are hope and loss

and joy and struggle and the next great step ahead.

Wake-Up Call

On the move

spot to spot,

gone noon

or higher

hearing the heaven

breathe in my ear,

bound for the quick path,

point to point,

but the sun in my eyes,

smoking where

staining when

in yellow heat,

in red blood

rafting

tunnels and branches,

splashing tissues and brain cells,

calling my name,

singing the praises

hot blood

does sing.