Revolutions of the Sun

Revolutions of the Sun

In the beginning your words to me, “Timing is everything.”

Words in the kick-the-can of this street stumbling past the gutter cigarette butts and shining silver dollars, 

My cheek to the concrete staring at each

My tongue and eye are inches away contemplating the implications

This script of our intersection, my gluttony of preservation in all my construction endeavors, boxing you out like a low-post basketball forward

Tearing down nets and bending rims for what solace in a sphere incapable of passing through the portal of an ellipse and yet the insemination perpetuated despite

My own roadblocks and dysfunctional cravings for that which was and was not my spliced-definitions of family in the moment,  Fear like a catapult launching the fruition of choice into a cesspool of replicated travesty, Balling for God’s confidence and sage discernment to propel my insecurity into an oblivion to elevate over these fortress walls

I see your footsteps on the precipice of the pravers to deserving future

I must let you go into the one confidant I have never accepted, trust

Standing there with her palm open waiting to hold me, to resign the sword by hilt to the ground and leave my breast vulnerable to any passer by

There is no assurance, There is no statement, There is action

There is choice, and the ultimate growth is my own choice

There is acknowledgement of I need not armor, This naked skin is enough

To scale these walls, pass unblocked as if nothing, but a man self-assured

That I am worthy of my own self-respect, I have no travesty to lug as dead weight shackle sphere of spikes, I simply need to speak and these cobwebs break as candy floss

These bramble thorn detriments are dust, I care of you enough to want what you wish best for need in your life, this sequestered preservation and betterment in the confines of silence, I pray this growth to your garden

What will, what may, what was, what is, all the serum of this soil irrigating the un-graspable of years from now, knowing I give these questions to trust and if that is what we each want these revolutions around the sun from now, then so be this freedom to not label possibility as doubt, but that half of the glass as celestial rather than hellacious, light over dark, peace over fear, trust in what is not known