i for one until the end of this poem
am not laughing
a graft is a grail is not a gleam
streams unstreamed for pell mell rail
thirtysix spirits driven forever
until the next great universes veil
am not laughing at
extruded methane rattling in the ojo of fallen water
i was transported in a bus in the dark
into a place
where water stops to breathe
and so beautiful light darkness before sunrise revealed
a slow pause of stream
suddenly becoming a seeming sea of its own
gladelike idyllic alabama woods secluded
creek roiling down hard sediment from old mountains of old seas
a sea cascading down
triple the height of old tall trees
a sea with its own rising clowds of
water and air as nowhere else anywhere
a brief fast forceful sea at whose bottom
after whirl of portal of roaring whitewater
three stone throws from the pause of the creek above
another seeming
this time a lagoon
to forever
gated by hardwood and pine
so in still water as if a horizon
below creek as sea a late moon finds schooling fish
loving lantern sister of earth
transcending into as they move about
freshly stirred still water almost to vortex at bottom of falls
where full force of water tons
water and passing moments
fish glowing seen thru superslowmotion stream sea shapeshifting clouds
i feel the youghiogheny since fivehundred moons
as a young man curled in a ball
born under the roaring
water from viginia mountains coming to the great gulf
now dream of being chained under this stream vortex
to shred away
i borrow and give back fourhundredseventythree words
reimagining story of tiesnake spirit underwater
slithering with power greater than tons
pulling under
whichever it might choose
this snake black and secreting extruding methane in the ojo of fallen water
less than hundreds we walk as more than thousands
slowly down both steep stream banks toward the glowing swimming fish
hands on trees and jutting rocks feet on steep soil moss and rock
into still water a circle around fish all swimming water ballet
they leave beneath us we breast stroke toward the falls
and join hands rising to stand
waiting
waiting
treading
glowing ourselves in sister moon
and then tiesnake chooses
but it matters not which no hands let go
strength more than millions we walk as chain
holding eachother
into and part of creek roiling down hard sediment from old mountains of old seas
black tiesnake dragging behind
up through superslowmotion shapeshifting clouds
up to idyllic alabama slow pause of stream
we wade in and circle all dancing water soiree
black tiesnake drifts toward sun not sister moon we let it go
now i am lauging
and splashing
and breathing with water