Yellow, #7, Air

Yellow #7 Air

I’d rather be a spiral than a snail.
Paul Simon

There are many human systems
used to dismantle the mysteries
define, categorize,
justify discrepancies.
We are guided by planets
related by genes, summed up with
numerology, spirited away by
transcendentalists, the I Ching can
read our bones, primary
perception is color,
an element, a season.

Thumbtacks on a map, I am
Yellow, #7 , Air
lean more toward runes
than the I Ching, ruled by
Venus undermined by Mars
Epona my patron diety
Jesus my dirty secret, I have
seen angels, never aliens

I don’t believe in ghosts, but
only because I don’t believe
in death. Autumn
is my season- finally

something makes sense!
But these depths I can not

with all these elegant
solutions holding us
In orbit: the networks
of climate, semiotics and
loss, long gone
feats of stars, the gravity
of extinct galaxies

Why do we still crumple
when love is gone?

How do we do not combust
with joy for ever
having existed ?

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