I Stepped out of Nothing Visible: Part II

Song of the Children

We clung to you without reservation

We thought only of our own pleasure

As we died and lived in your arms.

We were days and nights there.

We were born so many times.

We drank from bright green leaves

And poured our faces into the secret forest.

We rolled through bushes, down hills

And at the bottom became Mud People.

The animals were tamed by our abandon.

They stopped and stared at us

With orange, or yellow, or green eyes.

Small fierce cats were ready to roughen

Our hands with their sharp pink tongues.

And the rivers!

They mirrored us,

Drowned us

And delivered us up

Safe as the floating leaves.

Then we tried to please you and guess your needs.

We noticed when your eyes were closed from us.

We counted numbers and breathed carefully.

We found, to our dismay, we could contain ourselves.

The world fell apart like paper

And our organs went giddy inside us.

Our clothes turned out too small for our bodies.

We tasted boredom and its antidotes.

Slowly, sadly, we put down our sticks and said,

This world is chosen as the real one.

And now? Eden flickers on and off

Like lightning through backyard windows.