for Astro
“Natrum Muriaticum: The primary characteristic underlying the Natrum mur. pathology is introversion arising out of a feeling of great vulnerability to emotional injury… they create a wall of invulnerability, become enclosed in their own worlds, and prefer to maintain control over their circumstances.” – George Vithoulkas, homeopath (www.vithoulkas.com)
I want summer
and all that is golden
right now
in my eyes
on my tongue
like the way your hand feels
holding mine in my pocket
I want sky and clouds
and the white squint of light,
not this hollow gray night
rent through with a whistle
but the salt truck came again
today
and yesterday too:
my shoes crunch on the crystals
collecting in drifts
and I’m tired of running
past shanties and tracks
on an electrified bridge
trying not to step in the cracks,
and wishing I could just
get back home
to you
I’m tired of fighting with the sun
it’s so simple, but it overwhelms me now and then—
even in my polar remoteness,
you find me
and bring a coat
and in this northern light,
you can see any color
and there are no numbers and shapes,
even this you and me is just
a phenomenon
of magnetic friction—
the music of the spheres
cast before us like dice,
painting this glittered world
of snow and ice
the city lights
reflect so plaintively—
but darling, don’t let me forget
to be lonely
because it’s these moments
only,
these split seconds of transcendence
that heliport us out of codependence
and make me remember
why I summoned you in the first place.
I want blue days
with white cumulus stories
working their lazy ways
across our fields of vision.
I want summer
and the blue playground of your eyes
as my personal sky
to write on
because your mind
is so full
and so beautifully empty,
a canvas for our dream-clouds
that drift and merge
through various stages
of yours and mine,
twisting through lazy incarnations
from swirling polar color-cupids
into tempera hues
of the temperate zone
like living shapes of abundance
who,
schooled by the wind,
learn to breathe on their own.
© Psyche Marks 2009