Kingdom Of Consciousness

Are you supposed to save me?
You,
far off
in the mountains.
Bring me wildflowers
to adorn my ancient hair
on the cloud-brushed plains of Texas.

If I walk at night through the colonnade
of your dreams.
Don’t be scared.
Perhaps it’s a neurotransmitter
I was meant to be.
Routing and rerouting
every memory that was meant to be.
Burn enzymes in your hippocampus.
Make tones in your heart.
Let us create
this new kingdom of consciousness.
One that makes you mortal again,
nothing left that’s from the earth,
leave those chalk bones on the land.
One that makes you walk down
the tallgrass hills
and come ’round the bend
to find the view of the sundrenched valley,
with bones amongst the tallgrass.

A
lone animal
died here.

I am the king of the Mt. Tewkley summer
flower.
You are the queen of the mists in spring.
You float from the mountains
in morning
and
are gone by our lunching and songmaking
at midday.

Yours is the body laid down that is
dreaming.
Now mine is this far off land,
far across
the lake
of stars,
envisioned by human beings.

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