It Was Only A Jar of Jam


It was only a jar of jam
it was only a tree hidden by another
It was merely a song
A brand new language for our tongues
It was a new path through some distant forrest
A smile unseen, a prayer unspoken
It was a lightening bolt striking our planet
A silver fork stabbing pink meat
This is my ancient time machine
Forbidden and closed
This is my day, my day, my day
And they peel them selves back
Revealing new flames that lick yellow wood
Willow leaves tickling the cold waters of home
Frosts so white or summers so brown
Blue skies and clouds used as halos
The world spins with electricity
Herons fly uneasy, sparrows sit uncaged
It is the stare into the night
It is the shadow that is mine melting through yours
A dance alone, an army of death
Snow on the desert
Dead poets in the field
The old author living with his Ma
The old junkie living with his wife-ghost
The old butterfly sitting on the iris
Books unwritten of hunters and stars
Love and triumph
Death and a cactus garden
It was only a jar of jam
It was only true grace
It was lying in the arms of memory
Before my story was told



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