The Water Hand

At this moment in history
All animals traipsing off into dream fire —
Rows of perspective lineages converging,
The long-remembered singularity coalesces.
Notice the emergences in the swirling parlor trick.

Long ago in some other story
I dimly recall how you and I broke free of embrace
Smiled lastly with eyes shining
That promised eternal remembrance.

And then we turned, entered the event horizon,
The membrane shuddered once and we were gone.
The radios between us crackled interference,
And minds and hearts broke under the strain.

We forgot and forsook everything
Let fall the words and forms we clung to
Hoping to be reborn naked again,
One more chance for the perfect dance.

Riddle maker in some ice metal tower
Churning out the ticker tape conundrums
To distract and dazzle
In the maelstrom of desire and fear.

And those tangled roots beneath our earthly feet —
Oh the squirmy wormy mud, my sweet!
It can be so enticing — this place of endless delights.
So divine except for those demonic alien dreams.

Waking us from oblivion for a four a.m. fight,

In autism you cannot touch me unless
You hold me tight and never let go,
Anything else is sheer agony —
Eyes clawed out for your trouble, so don't even dare.

Remember the way your hand echoed the still pool,
The goldfish swam up to sniff
And the rippled advanced outward,
Waking the tired, dead leaves.

You take your hand out and
For a moment more — ripples,
But then the pool forgets you,
Unchanged ever more.

It is not possible to break the water
Or make it long for your embrace.
It only slips through finger tips
And heads home to its source.

So who are you —
The water or the hand?
And what disturbs you so?

© 2001 Koko Jaeger