The Blue Book

Long Enough

You finished with a laugh a song
unlike any I have heard before,
deep and slow and wild
as the forest it calls from,
singing a story about Sofia
far beyond feeling,
from long before we named her.

A simple beat,

                       blown apart.

And somehow you saw with my eyes
a filamental fabric behind the stars,
even here, where poetry falls to pieces,
too crude to capture what is shared
before words,
in places where it makes perfect
sense to wave at space stations
and greet Orion like a personal friend
as he traces golden lines
in silent time lapse forever,
always across a different sky.

The syntax of even the most broke-
open lines
is no match
for what it means to meet
like water and merging flow
as waves of laughter
over rapids which play
our background tune,
a hint about immortality
hidden in the ever-changing notes,
just waiting for someone to sit down
and listen long enough.


Mercedes Sosa