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I
i cannot work this hard
i cannot take this pressure
anymore
hours without sleep
hours without
hours…
“Jerry”
yes
“Do you know who this is?”
Granny Browning
“Take my hand, we’re going away”
where?
“Legend Valley”
“remember when i told you
how i used to walk thru
the woods…see all the pretty
flowers, birds, and trees?
how i wished i could paint them…?”
yeah Granny, then you told me
i can paint pictures with words…
that i should always write
“i can paint here or write, but
i don’t need to…here, whatever
you imagine, you are”
is this heaven?
“if you want it to be”
is this hell?
“if you can’t control it”
i don’t understand
“take my hand, you will”
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II
falling
crashing
into a light
animated figures
appear on the shore
greeting me with open arms
we talk without speaking
each word rings out
like the poetry
i could never write
they lead me across a bridge
over a deep menacing chasm
telling joys and sorrows,
we smile at the past
tingle for tomorrow
III
at last the peak
i knew i’d reach
i see the answers
to all painful puzzles
the door to my room’s
a whirlpool
revolving to a point
the walls are draped
with color, artwork
weaved in dreamcloth
floating on cushions of music
harmonizing when i please
sharing love and beauty
with souls that longed to see
but were afraid to look
Houston, Texas ‘84
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