Blooming (5/2020)

thirty three years a feather flew
winding with the wind and the lively
with the music
never to be noticed

thirty-odd years a mountain moved
siding with her sins and surviving
with the ocean
wondered if they noticed

day, time, tide, here and gone
feather falls and I wonder
exhale or let it head where it’s going
there’s no knowing ‘til a mind is made

so it’s spinning on a wheel
a foot on a pedal
centering, centering before blooming

well, after thirty-some years, the clown just cracked
grinding through his gifts, past the binding
with new patience
not much looking back now

after thirty framed years, the door fell down
lightning on her lips, mesmerizing
with new balance
back then, bring me back now

slow down spinning on a wheel
a foot off a pedal
before centering, centered, and blooming