Reverse Osmosis

The movement of fresh water through a semipermeable membrane when pressure is applied to a solution (such as seawater) on one side of it.
–Merriam-Webster

6/30/2018

Take your place along
this road, asphalt cracked and shone
through green, blades sprung up
in the in-between like
a question-marked shaking, sharp
dew-edged glint. Take
your place along this burnt-over
leaving, and tell me, evening, morning, it
will be good.

Tell me there will be mist, to take
the diamond-dreadful tangle
of us and turn it cloaked, wistful,
morning-murmured seconds
locked in this hesitating heart.
Tell me of the scent
of new leaves, songbirds’ snowfall
calls, the talk
of the wind in the aspen.
These spreading stars, tell me
I will see them, glittering
bastions of I hardly know
what, roaring, loosed, torn into
the shroud. Spilt petals of the wild
apple trees, caught in the wind,
tossed, into the night, burning
Ara’s fire. Tell me there is
the firefly breeze, echo, constellations
about my feet, susurrating
silence. Will there still
be silence?

Or am I right
in counting losses, an endless
naming of that which I
let slip, my ocean, dripping
into what is already
raw? Oh, give me
the filling of this.

Give me the filling
of the way I edge, mouth
of grass and mossy eyes, blind with
not knowing, not seeing, rug-pulled
groundlessness. Give me
the slow flourish of spring, sparkled,
tongue-savored scent of Light. Give me
new growth, summer’s bountiful
to sink my ripped and snaking
roots into, give me cloud, smoke
over the burning mountain, aflame,
aflame, give me
Autumn, smokey-eyed and
bitter-tongued, sugarlipped hoarfrost. Give
me the feathering of stilled
fog, waking to memoried
yesterday, a past
that is now, now, now, now, give
me the first snow as we slip
quietly into winter, fling me
into daylight, hurry me
into gladness, until it runs dripping
on my shoulders like oil, a great
embalming baptism, give
me something that I
will recognize!

For I cannot wander dissolved
this evanescing road
forever.

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