States of Matter

My hair swims, singing,
Along the fragile whisper
Of spring’s near-silent changelings –
Elfin children dancing
In these meadows
Lost in time –
In gentle persuasion,
Bidding me follow;
Pursue these longings
That the bitter winter’s frost
Suffocates
So completely.

My skin slips into
The moist, supple greenness
Of this… pulsating grassland –
And I am willing
To relent
Ready to surrender –
And I prepare for the transition
To surpass immortality,
I am willing, I am waiting,
I am ready for the climax –
I am liquid;
I am vapour.

I am.




SJL: 7th April, 2004