The Days

Eskimos are said to have

dozens of words for snow they perceive.

The type of snow depends on the temperature,

the humidity, the day, among other things.

I will come back to this
but let me digress here:

Thinking about Home today.

I have had apartments and houses,

been in cities and mountain villages

and islands and a deathbed, too.

Had to think about Life and what 

in the world I am doing wanting more as I lay

there scared, crying, reading to pass the time,

chatting with the pony-tailed male nurse

who loved Bukowsky, had big Roman eyes
that blinked with the calm I imagine
professional angels possess.  
I wish I remembered his name.

After I was out I read that

gratitude's tears are more beautiful;

crystaline under the microscope:

the guy who'd written the article

had asked the monks and the scientists

and the Eskimos.

He didn't ask me but I would have confirmed it.

When you are dying, you definitely want to be filled

with gratitude.  And being that you never know

when that will be, you might as well keep yourself

filled up good and plenty.

I'm running, I'm going, I'm moving.

I'm curious about you, Life -- and Death,
I know you're there, but I am not so curious anymore --

and I 

just can't believe in only one religion,

one right way to Love other than

completely and, ideally, with absolutely

no violence.  Impossible as it seems
given the human narrative till now.

I got no home,

no roots, but I've got leaves;

no nest, but wings and a brain

like a whale with her mouth open

from the Arctic toward the equator 

and back just to feed well and mate

in better conditions.  Since the beginning

of time the beasts of air and water travel

with a purpose.

New worlds (and by "worlds" I mean

cultures and peoples): one beautiful in this way

the other in that.  All with an Exit sign

over a door somewhere

that, somedays, you glance at

and want to sneak out of.

Being without a home, in this way, is

strange and sad and exciting

depending on the day.

And each feeling can produce it's own

variety of tears if they get intense enough,

if you let those chemicals fill you full,

paint your view, major or minor

the notes in the song of whatever language surrounds; 

but, of course,

it depends on the mood, the context

of my feelings, the day.

Water has a tetrahedral molecular configuration that resonates with the fabric of the vacuum geometry and is thermodynamically inversed: it is the only element that expands when cooled and contracts when heated.

http://resonance.is/