Revolving doors thrum
a heartbeat of movement which can't be stilled, held
for an unguarded moment resists grasping.
All this useless beauty, worth more than
a thousand hours and scars of progress.
Caressing and pushing, cascading keys
flinging open doors inside and throughout
all is connectedness and distance dissolved,
an elusive deluge of sugar and warmth,
a more elusive opening, aching to be entered.
Step or half-step creates a gap
which expresses more than the presence alone can.
A yearning energy to feed itself, give itself over, consume
itself to fuel the light of unconscious smiles
and outpourings of presentness, to take
your hand and stalk like a tiger at your side
and chase the doubts that keep your fingers from
the keys
for even a moment.

Labels: Poems