Unravelling and weaving, sometimes simultaneously

Ix

Traveling

dream
vision
doesn’t really matter

it’s turned my head
inside out
again

and I am running

bare feet flat tamping
tamp
tamp
tamp
against the jungle floor

counterpointing
the heave
of my breaths

while the slap of leaves
the whip of branches
stings against
sweat-soaked skin

I am not running
from something
I am not running
to something

I am just running

the push too strong
the wealth of heat
so overwhelming
that all the creatures
have gone silent

terrified witnesses
to my passage

the scent of their fear
is intoxicating

if my lungs were not bursting
I would laugh

but they are
so I huff
feeling the burn

huff
huff
huff

tamp
tamp
tamp

Elation builds
a deep well of boling liquid
a hot spring made
of my own blood
bubbling over
as I reach the river’s source

a cliff extending
out into space
shielding the roar
of the cataract below

Momentum
casts me out
without pause
out
over

yet

the only impact
is to the jungle floor
on both banks of the river

four legs left
four legs right

tamptamp
tamptamp
tamptamp
tamptamp

bunching striding flowing
racing
sister selves
one golden
spattered with rosettes
dark dappled shadows
one black
the rosettes
shimmering patterns
like burned velvet
limbs supple and long

running
running

running

and I would laugh

but I don’t know how
any longer

jaguar09

(c) RCGA 2015

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