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Teach me how to put my linear reductions
back into the curvature of the whole.
I want to think out and up to the horizon.
I think I see the water tension of the world’s
tear ducts before a blink.
I think I’ll sit with the sunrises and
sunsets as they share coffee and night caps.
Come with me while the light dissipates and
the darkness rolls over the edge.
Sit with me when God calls us to look
unto the hills, the hills which huddle
their crescendos against the exhalation of the day
and the inspirations of the night.
The days and nights turn and roll
as we take them for granted.
That golden light which stirs the
pigmentation of our souls and
the dark that unleashes mystery
and quiet questions.
Will you come with me as
the sun lays in the ocean,
and the moon’s lunacy
paints us like a Geisha?
Gerald the Writer 
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