cheeks full high

I don't want to stain my pages with my tears but wash them translucent
To the void and back again full
Into the rivers of Minnehaha, tickling my senses, cheeks full high
Tensed to give me the vision of my now occidental eye
In appreciation of the fine silk worms dreaming of fabric woven from ingenuity of the human heart
To clothe all in its radiant beauty from an endless streaming cocoon held,
Nestled tightly in its warmth of safety, of home
Brave tenacious Souls tempting the boundaries of one so foreign
To Leap, Dance, Milk & Sing the strings fine tuning, ever simpler in harmonies complex,
Joined in patterns of unions untold as they unfold,
Flexing and flaming into the cool waters splashed on the winters shore that is in store
Brick oven stones, canning jars, bones


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