Fireworks

I knew all the time I was dying
Now I must be too dead
Even to remember
Or to react.
I am turning into hard clay
I am not fitting into moulds
Not anymore.
I have sculpted myself
I reject all your offers
To chisel me into something
That you think is beautiful.
I know why the free bird sings
It must feel like me.
Free and free and free.
Shadows part ways
At street corners
They throw themselves
Against walls
Like some significance.
Then they watch themselves
Over puddles of rain.
They laugh.
I felt the fireworks in me.
I know them.
They are a splutter of greens
Reds and nubile oranges.
They feel like seashores and laughter.
Like sunsets and songs.
I know it before people laugh
And cry before they cry.
I have watched many a cloud
Gliding past me
Watched lightnings strike
Rain and soggy paperboats.
Many fences break like creaky wood.
Were you even there
When I made poems
Of rain castles and trembling leaves?
Sunsets I sat through alone
Smelling the distant clouds
And the downpour that slept in their folds.
I smiled and laughed like a baby flower.
I brandished a gleaming golden sword
At life and at death.
I breathed and lived like a desperation.
I choked and sputtered back to life.
Lonely walks with dry leaves
And little elves
Tiny flowers in that open field.
Stars that called me their own.
I felt wet clay between my fingers
I loved it into a shape.
Come there is emptiness
Beckoning like truth
All fire melting in a sea
Throw your dreams
Into this huge wishing well
Believe in angels
Be a little shameless
And naked
Imagine you’re a frenzy
Come
Life calls
You are the reason to be.
Come to me
I will show you the sunrays
Dancing in a thousand lakes.
I will fling your windows open
For light, water and life
I will laugh you into happiness.
Come I will wrap you
In a little meaninglessness
And free you from those little cells
You have shut yourself up in.
Come we will walk through
The wildest of dreams barefeet
And forests with stones
Nudging at our soles
Laugh and laugh
Make wreathes of a hundred
Beautiful leaves
Speak to the bees
The splash of rain on our faces.

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