Autumn Logos Ethos

The words come when I sit quietly enough to let them roar over me like waves like waterfalls crashing no dancing on my skin and soaking me in turning me into the forms they desire like dancing on sheets twisting the cotton and rolling it with my toes until it becomes a heap no a snowball no a passion of turns and turns and turns that I unfold to repose beneath in the swiftly coming winter.

They come when I walk through rain and then again beneath a burning sun no the moon no stars that start against the sight of wind that clasp my fingers and toes and breathe their liquid breath up my upturned nose that deviate from my mouth to the recesses of my mind until they leak from my ears tear my eyes dropping down on the empty page like water no milk no ink that branches out upon this scroll and splinters.

They come when I sleep yes when I dream when my mind is away and my soul awakes and takes me to the place where words are alive they breathe they mean they specify and amplify thoughts I have long left behind and when the dream begins I spin I dance I leave these sheets and these sheets take hold and waltz me rumba samba me across the leaf of time the rings of distant stars that shine.

The words come when I roar loud enough to let them whisper deep inside me like seeds like sprouts like daylily doubts I blossom and wither from day to dusk the thinks I must let in breathe out like chocolate covered parchment balls I swallow them whole I pass them on I sell their souls to make them mine.