Shock and Awe

Tightened jaw, I did not love.

Flashback of myself  jerked about,

legs high above my head, men

laughing, I came to sea drifts,

movement and crashing. I found I am

not so far from God exploding.

Gifting, a friend once said, is why we live.

Seven storks still and white on a gold lake.

My lazy eye glances back to that original

split, myself  high above myself.

Whiplashed into forgetting, I didn’t know

hours from minutes. I was hypervigilant for

catastrophes. My head raging then numb.

The early garden bare, and now,

shocked with sudden memory,

I return to changing sky hues,

blooms of lilac bursting along sidewalks.

Lazy in the grass, I free myself of guilt,

imagine musicians in the park, us overcoming

ourselves. My eyes open before stars.

Holy these leaves, these skies.

What is torn opens for the light.