Invitation
You told me the last poem I wrote felt rushed
and it surprised me a little
left me ajar
bruised
for a moment
until I breathed it in
the hurry, the zing
the go go go, the urgency
I felt it in my lungs and fingers
my neck and spine,
in my jaw which clenches
every so often
and reminds me of the plastic barrier
I wear at night
to keep my teeth from cracking,
quite as much
rushed
I do indeed know that place
not enough time
not enough love
not enough air
my fingers furiously tapping,
expelling words with spiritual Ipecac
get it down, out, away, right away
before I forget
before the words fly off for a long migration,
before they lose their meaning
before they turn to menace
so today I gave myself
some time
allowed the blank page
to stare back
untrammeled
pregnant
winking
a boundless mirror
inviting
with tenderness
I enter
and remember that words are
ciphers and
signposts
tiny plateaus
on the
cliff
where I can rest
where I can release
the hurry
where I can forgive the weight to
shift
to the other toe
feel it hover
awaken
defying gravity
aloft