The Gardener
Santa Clara, CA 95051
theroot_
Morning's snooze awakens microtones, and the accordion needs to stretch.
Now is the sunset of magic, twilight voices fading. The hinterland not quite left behind floods with light. Noises in the street, the pacing of left brained people, a panoply of hesitant purposes, and no dearth of insanity going through normal motions.
Who wakes in the morning?
The gardener? With an endless future of gardens to tend, customers to serve, constant improvement? Only to have it stripped away. And this very self, once held so dear, gone void. It has been said that the unspeakable properly calls for silence. But let that idea hold its tongue. The accordion needs to breathe and, in the last analysis, who is playing?
A bramblewood wine glass, seen floating downstream balanced on its base, is like a heron standing on one leg. Or a lizard's tail that will disengage with slight provocation. An expedience of makeshift ladders, thrown up between levels, makes for a delightful climb. The true meaning . . .
Just imagine Sauvignon rippling through phonetic rents in space-time, flagellants in a drop of water. As above, so below. But don't push it, just . . .
Unhinged is untinged. However many, move quickly to avoid being burnt in the fire walk. ('Twas said he sold his soul to the devil on a plate of hot coals!) Buy two but wait, get the third free, and there you go – skip to the loo my darlin'. So, if it rhymes, parameters change: And the color of laughter? And all of this squiggling in that tiny drop of water. French is a phonetic blowtorch.
In pursuit of understanding, suddenly I discover the shadow play is diaphanous, traffic across the corpus callosum is so dense that brain halves merge. Then the idea of a vault becomes a malapropism. Then the existence of carrot sticks as french fries fills my wagon with laughter. Bats in another dimension are butterflies. People may think I'm smiling at them. And I am.
Where the village bell is kept, right? Sort of. . .
Bats in the belfry.
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The Gardener
Santa Clara, CA 95051
theroot_