If I Could

If I could

I would talk of

a headful of flowers

a mouth full of sea

of making pictures from

ghosts in the sky

a garland out of dragonflies

but there is nothing left to say

no, there is nothing left to tell

If I could, I would tell

of standing outside a yellow room

of a never ending staircase

or the clickety clacking

of the slow train on it's tracks

but there is nothing left to say

no, there is nothing left to tell

If I could I would tell of

someone who punched a hole in the sky

who stood waving his arms

'til everything scattered -

a murder of crows

how nobody screamed

no, there wasn't a sound

but there is nothing left to say

there is nothing left to tell

If I could I would ask

“Do you see him standing there

young but golden, a potent god

do you notice that it matters not

if he gives or receives the honeyed kiss?”

but there is nothing left to say

no, there is nothing left to tell

the wind is high

his head explodes -

thoughts, eyes, a hundred fish

all swimming through the air

while Echo whispers her white tears

in fields where dandy flowers roar.