Seldom Stuck

in ,

I am seldom stuck,

though the words that pour forth

through pen and unleashed mind babble,

race like ponies in the field

tossing frantic manes and tails

the whites of their eyes rolling,

their nostrils dilated

like the peach clamshells I gather in summer


I want to hold my hands up and out,

hush now, it's okay

the lullaby unwinding

To place my hand upon the sweat soaked neck,
gentle, gentle,

stroke the kitten soft muzzle


I do not want to saddle words,

to rein them in,

a sharp bit between the teeth

I want to settle,

let the head dip,

munch the sweet damp grass,

honey scented summer

warm upon my shoulders


A pause then,

a breath drawn from the belly,

deep then deeper still

filling like a swollen creek

rich and cool, and then

the release


a ribbon unfurled

a kite unbound,

a cresting wave

the pen, a shadow dancer


unstuck

yet...inadequate

I wonder about babes before

language creates the topography

the map of their knowing

so finely attuned to senses

the brush of a hand upon the cheek,

the hum of a voice against the belly

the language of life

buzzing through

the unquestioning

soles of their tender toes


they are

seldom stuck