Memories of dried-up roots

Barren and arid, a desert petrified suspended

Somewhere between dead and alive

A super-position teeming with barely perceptible possibility

Improbable vitality obscured by ossification

Municipal weeds that pay no heed to the flagstone and granite

Cracks through sparkling sidewalk slabs where green fingers probe the city air

Calcified bark gives way, skin softens, warms

Bends with the wind

Holds ground rooted

Beneath the iceberg

You never know what you do not see. But sometimes feel it.

As roots grow ever deeper and probe the underworld

Cracking catacombs, waking sleepers long forgotten, left for

Dead weight starts to stretch and flex as blood flows into sleeping limbs

Rooting through buried treasure, weary of traps, spilling enriching

Fertilizing soil. Every particle a seed

A memory a thought a passing look waiting for the light reflected in the sight of an

I can only germinate a fraction. Incubate, cultivate, generate… initiate

First gyrate, frustrate, navigate, concentrate to alleviate the state

Of suffocating immobility spinning darkly at a dizzying rate

Fingers follow lines tie strings, thread meaning through particular diffusion

Watching a time-lapse of a blade of grass shoot a hole through the darkness

Dancing toward the light.

Lucidity is bliss

The ignorant disagree

Illusions hold until they don’t

When Schrödinger and Pandora fall in love and have a baby

A simple package in superposition

Do not open until the music ends.

Whirl the stars into a flowing galaxy and join the dance until you forget who the dancer is.

Beneath the sky baptism is eternal.