Gnosis, by Michael Graber
What is being born between us
Was here before and will be again.
Is this poetry or mysticism?
Neither if your whole body doesn’t shiver,
molting under this slow embrace.
Neither if you don’t stagger, though
you haven’t drunk wine.
Neither if you don’t puddle into primal
Soup in love’s cocoon.
Neither if the sun never catches the moon.
Your watch won’t work here, so
measure time by the quality of kisses.
What is being born between us
is a way to embody the spirit,
as it leaps into different dimensions
like a child playing hopscotch.
Your phone—forget it.
Your money—meaningless.
Here, the currency costs
the idea of where your life was going.
Welcome to the frontier.
You must map your heart
for treasure, to know what is
being born between us.
~
Previous poems from this author:
“Falling Asleep While Julia Sings.”
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Assistant Ed: Ben Neal/Ed: Brianna Bemel
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