Gone Primal

Speak to me in hushed whispers

that sound like sand moved by tide water,

or let your meaning be gestures,

invisible as a hummingbird’s wings;

for I no longer hear the roar of the waterfall,

or the crash of the avalanche.

The sound the world makes

when it’s dying

has drowned out the wind.

 

Even the moon moves in different courses, now.

He seeks to keep his dance a secret,

but I can decipher his intent

in the bend of his parabola.

He is not all round, you know;

he has sharp edges

and a long memory.

He was watched us for a very long time.

 

Let your breath come easy, my friend.

Come, take a rest by my fire.

I no longer run the Race of Fools,

to be beaten,

haggard and broken,

in stiff competition under the lash.

Instead, I am free

to learn the language of the Unknown Tongue.

I have stopped trading in lying sounds

and now I hear and see only true meanings.

 

I am waiting for you to join me,

on the other side of your fear.

Let go of those hard, carbon chains

and glamorous names

that restrain you

and be restored to your rightful kingdom.

Here, the only thing to fear is the dark,

but in the dark,

we are also fearsome.

The Moon is large

And his dance is calling.

You can hear it

in the rhythm of your primal heart.

 

HG – 2016

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