Brandin Steffensen’s Poems (NYC Harvest)

I-IV & IT WILL
I
All contained boundlessly
EARS and FINGERS SEE
what I or YOU 
CAN NOT
Our cells KNOW IT
and WE do
when 
WE FORGET ENOUGH
II
The rugged terrain
unfolds along the silky
grace of bodies 
that let go of what they habit mostly
(or is it mostly)
Whirling I realize
I am vapor in a 
billowing human cloud 
rustling slower
than ease 
III 
Empty lips closed
over stillness falling
down down into 
fine grain wooden boards 
The light glows over dyed cotton
and locks of hair
The drone of fans is reassuring
IV
LET IT BE
WHEN IT IS MINE
TO BE SURE
                                she says
and I know there is ease just
beyond all stress
IT WILL
IT MAY GROW
IT WILL GROW
IT MAY SHRINK
IT WILL SHRINK
IT MAY CHANGE
IT WILL CHANGE
IT
WILL
BE
IN SOME PLACE
IT IS THE MOST
MOST MOST BELOVED THING
LOKE THE ROMANS 
LOVED THE GLADIATORS
AND THE UNFOLDING
DELICATE and HEFTY
PLAY 
of the
BEINGS OF 
PEACE and CURIOSITY
MAY HOVER
in the BIOSPHERE
AND 
SATURATE ALL OF TIME
love 
b

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *