Elations

I might appear decisive.

Ideas resting akimbo, black & white,

The passage to an emerald kingdom.

Can I give you a sure thing?

Some solid ground? 
No need - what if 

Enigma rings this moment,

Like sunlight rides a forest?
What if edges have already melded, 

Like plaid weds flannel threads?
We could court vibrations,

wind kinships into wavelengths.

We lift each other up.

I could rise from sandy sediments

Breast bare as a sycamore,

The one down our gravel drive.

She tugs water droplets

Out of the aquifer,

Rock bound for centuries;

Drags them up

Gives them a penthouse view,

Opens her lips, out they go

To float like lost tribes,

To congregate as cloud-bank.

She craves the rain.

We lift each other up.

I could sit like frog, eyes 

Poking above a rippled surface,

Meditating on digestion.

When in violet flash, a horny dagger

He never sees coming,

Drags him up and out –

Tosses him down its rose gullet

And he’s cooking beyond done

In the foul yellow juices.

He is digestion - coming apart, the 
Molecules of sleek frog re-mingle:

Shaggy gray feathers, stilted legs.

Now he breaks open the air,

One motion, look

It’s a frog with wings.

We lift each other up.