I was feeling.... kind of blue

eleven crickets cried out for me to remember them as i passed by the meadow-pond when the day-heat settled into the loose night-skin that i left sloughed in the reeds for another creature to step into

Cornflower Centaurea cyanus, Globe Thistle Echinops ritro, Iris Iris sibirica, Hydrangea Hydrangea macrophylla, Empire Blue Butterfly Bush Buddleia davidii, Oxford Blue Eryngium bourgatii, Blue Delphiniums Delphinium, Periwinkle Corydalis flexuosa, Forget-Me-Nots Myosotis scorpioides, Gentians Gentiana verna, Perennial Geranium Geranium, Brunnera Brunnera macrophylla, Grape Hyacinth Muscari, Clematis Clematis, Bluestar Amsonia tabernaemontana, Salvia Salvia, Bellflower Campanula, Morning Glory Ipomoea tricolor, Blue False Indigo Baptisia australis, Harvestbells Gentiana saponaria, Georgia Blue Veronica umbrosa, Agapanthus Agapanthus africanus, The Blue Mist Shrub Caryopteris clandonensis, Himalayan Blue Poppy Meconopsis betonicifolia, Love in Mist Nigella damascena, Lungwart Pulmonaria officinalis, Siberian Squill Scilla sibirica, Columbine Aquilegia, Flax Linum usitatissimum, Lobelia Lobelia, Lupine Lupinus, Sweet pea Lathyrus odoratus, Veronica Veronica, Glory-of-the-snow Chionodoxa, Poorman's Weatherglass Anagallis arvensis, Birdbill Dayflower Commelina dianthifolia, Mountain Larkspur Delphinium scaposum, Desert Bluebells Phacelia campanularia, Stiff Blue-eyed Grass Sisyrinchium demissum, Scabiosa Scabiosa

there are only whispers, pronounced more or less in concert with silver currents, or gold, a hypostasis of opal bypasses both, folds externalities into hollow and eternal colour, into refracting modes reorganizing sweetness and salt according to the songs the tongue attunes to. warm palm, round stone, never blue until its heart broke open, the glowing vein, scarce and circumspect and thickly guarded in the kindness-closure of obscure matter, never flowing, always holding

speak softly, river brother, rinse paws & run with the current, change endlessly, wear stone to docility. the perfectible is only a moment prior to relentlessness returning, home to itself only. the air was sweet today, if swift, and petals mistook themselves for hailstones, that is, cruel, but some failures are lucky, there to be witnessed, and bracketed, buoyed, split open, in everything, there in silver, ovals, length, crackling, cooing, crying, and a chime, can you hear it. certain heavens break, while others recall the first departure, the birth of momentum only, collapsing speed, eternity, & the vantage of the smallest sight, the first sense, contracting it again, recalling the first heartbeat, then congealment, the open sigh of bone, the gathering-reverence. we are born, we are bandaged, each present day introducing a new patch, always weeping, to the air, this skin, is our own, we grew it

I pressed my lips to moonstone, to agate, believing nothing, willing nothing, prayer in the gaping invitation between deed & mind, every heart an effigy, every heart a pyre, every pause a particular offering, of certainty to its dismay, of breath to hold, of folly to object, to sign, let this, nothing-touch, shine across the air, reverberate, wall-less, only motion mimicking a dream of solidity

I will be there, outside the dream, toes to knees to shoulders to knees slipping below the surface, to listen, to pond-wisdom, dormant, circling, asleep in the sun, humid. green gold, this scum between my fingers is the most alive