Past the Size of Dreaming

 

It’s past the size of dreaming. Nature wants stuff

To vie strange forms with fancy...

(Cleopatra, Antony & Cleopatra, act 5, sc 2)

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It’s the amorphousness that gets you first.

Too thick to slake your thirst for flow –
when suddenly it gets a glow on,

puts a show on, starts to undergo

that alchemy again, when Juliet waits
on her balcony for Romeo who turns into

Marc Antony who burns into a god –

deriving from the same old sod as you and me.
There is no reckoning for what will be.

Let’s bloop up from the mud – regroup
and course with untoward colors in our blood –
vast eyes gleaming, past the size of dreaming.

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