Water flows… we build a float of dreams and sit upon the float,
and f l o a t downstream.
Into a valley we arrive and post our flags and chant our creeds—
by an altar of peculiar perceptions.
We drown the fools and swim in pools,
so c o o l upon our skin.
We see in the sky, with one eye – secrets hanging by threads.
Secrets live and secrets die.
We lie on our backs with our heads drowned.
And from a popular scene, a clown is wanting his blanket back.
Well, how about that! I cup my hands and drink of the holy water.
I’m a fish, in a dish of good times, in love with everybody.
How fine the sand does shine beneath my fingernails.
I’m a bubble that b u b b l e s and burps on the edge of a line,
in a moment of no time. I’m fine. Feeling so f i n e .
I dive into the divine and dance in dazzling palaces across alien lands.
Ride on crystal balls over worlds colliding.
Dive into a mirror dialogue where jewels talk with minds adrift.
Melt into a retrospective. I’m dealt a pack of pasts;
a ghost from my memory shakes me out of my adolescent fumbling.
I love with a velvet glove. The kindest thoughts, I pick and choose:
Mould my tongue with honeydew.
Poetry © Linda Cull