today the sky asks for
no companion other than
bird and beam.
clouds are not
unwelcome, though
also not tasked
with constance;
today is for streaking blue
and uninhibited bird.
the late Winter snow, or
maybe it is now early Spring?
whatever this snow is,
it is also snow.
and in the freely flowing sun,
it changes form. we,
too, change form.
from human to animal
and back again.
our cells open
to the pouring light,
even as our eyes squint
in its unabashed confidence.
there is no arrogance in its form,
beams stream from the source
in full realization of their purpose.
perhaps this is why i find
fade and shrink
in the presence of an open sky;
my own purpose is
unknown to me and so
i feel shame in my naked uncertainty.
the roofs of the apartment building
across the street from
my current sheltering,
they too grow naked
in the gathered light.
a muttering buzz in my brain
prods me to:
go, do, be,
out in the false warmth of
our distantly burning star.
for it is still late Winter
or perhaps early Spring
and the air is cool blue
like a sightless sky.
i ought to
climb a mountain peak
to bring myself nearer
the galloping streaming
beams. perhaps
my own purpose
might find luminescence,
if i bring my body closer
to this source of light.
i ought to
climb a mountain
to prove
my revelry of this
changing season.
if a sun could chuckle
it might. who’s to say
it isn’t already.
already it bathes me,
already it fills me
with its language.
“maybe”, it asks me, “maybe
you might use my light to see?
my brilliance, and also
your own, is no different
on mountain top or curb side.
sit yourself on a peak;
of wave or of rock. or,
sit yourself on a bench
in the midst of your postage
stamp town, your
sprawling city, your wavering
golden field home.
i shine on you
the same. and you,
earnest animal, you
take my light and reflect
it back. you,
allow me to see.”
zakschafer.com 