Postcard 116

The touch I can rely on sputters out.
Mind the gap.
Mother fire fills my lungs.
Father wind bleeds my pens.
The touch must grow sophisticate.

But hold fast hands like touch
on touch is all there is, and step out.
Step out and step and step and step again.
Again -- our love unstoppable as bulging earth.
And sophisticate -- every step is held mysterious.
There is gravity in our need.

Mind the bunching up.
Keep step with the little ones.
Keep up with the olders.
Fire on our necks.
Wind at our backs.

The words we can rely on sputter out.
We must grow words sophisticate.
But hold tongues like every word is mystery.
And grasp out and step, and speak out and step again.
The old must fail the new and the new must fail again.

Every sanctuary sputters out
and love must grow sophisticate
and step out and step again.
Everyone among us wants to be father heard.
Everyone among us wants to be mother held.

And everyone is grasping somehow
for unstoppable sophisticate.
Step out step out and step
-- and hold fast between --
and step and step and
ever simple step out and step.