wama

16.09.06

the branches of a tree in the distance hovering grand bear fruit. Small buds craving light and air. and water from roots dripping up up up to the tips of las ramas esperando.

And I left you so long moss covers your shoulders. A heavy weight to bear. You like a bull, like oxen continue to sow seeds, plow the field. And I galavant. That’s what you say with your head down staring at the thick earth. Where have you been, your neck twists back and forth slowly -- shake, shake, shake. If you had fingers not hooves they would wag or point, accusatory and sorrowful. But you have better things to do, more work to do, no time to worry about my escapades below the earth in the netherland in the depths of the sea. Me searching for something always. Reading the ebbs of foamy sea water tracing symphonies on white glistening sandy shores.

Beneath the waters I see myself on a horse, arm raised, a helmet crowning my growing locks. My horse and I stand looking calmly and directly up beyond the surface of the deep blue sea. Birds linger on coral reef, whispering songs to us. We repeat them cautiously at first then begin to bellow. Our song rises to reach you. Ballooning, billowing, blushing.

Listen for it. It will greet you. The notes clamor and run to you, leaving breadcrumbs along the path to find its way back to my throat, expectant. A path for the next notes to follow. A path to you headstrong and longing.

Listen. Y chica, mija, habibti, por fa -- sigiendola.

posted by la kara @ 06:30