Paradise

7/27/96

Memories creep up from long forgotten times,
memories recalled while spinning in a school yard.

Spring day in Chicago, botanical gardens,
the glory of Nature blooming Her will.
A quiet day, sky budding with rain,
soft sweet drops that kissed my 
neck as I walked slowly into the dream.

Color rapes my eyes,
overwhelming me. The power.
The hummingbirds fluttering around,
focused perspective of bodily nourishment,
while my soul drank its fill.

Walking the patterned brick,
the essence of passion
breaks into me, consuming me,
igniting me, lifting me, caressing me,
arousing me, filling me.

The elegant wives call to me,
the sweet nectar glistening
rolling down my tongue.

If I jump, I can fly.
If I let go, release this world,
release this body, this reason,
discard my judgment,
I could fly, I know I could.

I can feel it.
It tugs at my soul.
The drizzle of rain
adding strength to my legs,
the sound of wind
adding courage to my lungs.

Yet I do not, I can not.
I am afraid that I will fall.
Afraid that it's not real,
afraid to find out my dreams
are just dreams,
and Paradise just an imagination.