not my photo, Google brackish lagoon
DELTA LIGHT AND SILENCE
Around a brackish lagoon lie dead
and grotesque shapes of twisted search,
the vines that die while twisting for light.
The reeds and cat-tails pollinate me
while wondrous agents suck my toes,
and harvest the slow seed of the muck.
My head is bathed in lightheaded whorl
as I wander off inoculated by the swamp.
I take another drag of poisonous fluff
or swirl an exotic sip across the palette,
sample psychedelic mushroom spores
of earth and dust until a mental flavor,
a meaningful measure of musty breath
defines the lightness I am living for.
Scratches and redness make my addiction.
Body brushed by fever, thatch and burr,
the brambles and briars satisfy the ache
for earthbound potions and residues of rose.
I stumble and sway, or make my drunken lunge
and merge with bog as one infectious mirage.
Fading glimmer of sun excites an inner glow
that fills an instantaneous organ full
of a moldy bright elixir of recognition,
crashing all the barriers of my senses.
Out of silent search for seed and rays
of numinous light on gross lagoon,
its luminous gas like burning spirit
sick with urge and wandering,
roils out of carcass, lightly spinning.
Placid for the final twist, I leap by wing
and linger on a passionate lark of light.
ŠJimmy Warner Design, 2010
