visions

Where do see your visions?
Do they come to you on a whisper
on the wind?
Do they force their way out from within?
Where do you see your visions?

Do your visions slide along the floorboard
up your leg
into your thoughts and mind?
Or do they fall with the sky (as it did fall today)
hit the ground
and bounce up into your face?
Or do they simply sit in front of you
in a chair
and stare into your soul?

do they form like thin clouds in air
tranparent words from a lipless mouth
teasing your eyes and straining your mind to seek its form?
Do they reflect like sun off the water
and blind you
or does the dark shed light upon them?
are they new, like the sex of a baby?
or old, used, like old men in cheap bars?
Do they carry you to faraway lands
or hold you where they are?
Do you carry them?
do you dare their limits and seek their edges?
do you seek the dark in the light and search for the light in the dark?
Are their edges sharp to the touch?
Do they slice through flesh like a knife
through butter
like paper through tufts of finger?
Are they soft like satan’s satin?
Do they comfort you while you sleep?
do they stand tall, with legs and arms
do they outreach, each holding a new possibility
a new cache of ideas
can they carry themselves to new roads, new heavens, new hells?
can they grasp each other?
can they move without you
can they conspire, grow, make love in the dark?
are they not yours?
Are visions with you today?
Do they fade away?
When the sun slides slowly down
can you truly say
your visions will be there?

Are your visions crucifixion?
Or maybe exoneration
or if your vision is big enough,
can it rule a nation?
Can it rule only you?

which is the master, which is the slave?
who is to rule, which is to save?
who is to say one is the other?
perhaps one cannot be without the other
perhaps your visions are writing words about you, now
perhaps we are all one in the same
perhaps there is no difference between white and black
love and hate
man and thought

Do visions live- or die?