The Spelling is Correct

The Spelling is Correct

(“For from him, through him and to him are all things. Glory to him forever! Amen.” Romans 11:36)

What to say to someone who has
never known green,
or to describe the invisible spectrum that
makes the grape leaves grow?

I’ve seen less than I know,
I know less than it seems,
I walk slower when dreams
slip through the curtain between
perception and the beginnings of things.

Waiting for the day to speak out loud so
I can send a message. Words have left me
at such a loss
and my dreams disturb and
entice me. They play around the edges.
They resurrect the error of judgement.
They offer make-believe lovers.
The leave the day smelling of vinegar.
They are my only connection

To

A few of you.

If I would not spend the day inside my head
I might get around to sending a letter.
But then I think of all the things I’ve said that
--in their context--
should have been invisible. Instead

I place my fingers on the black keys,
count the alphabet out loud and make sure
the spelling is correct.

At least that is something I can rearrange if
it is pointed out to me.

What to say when
your heart feels larger than the world.
What to say when it feels constricted
at the end of the day.

These thin membranes that separate
thought from thought
still feel connected in wireless wonder
to something I am not.

Remember when we sat on the hills,
looked at the sun
and wondered why we were here?
Remember when every conversation was
epic until

Your brother or my sister,
or camp counselor or a dad
cracked a joke that...

Remember how
we forgot what we were
talking about?