The Freshest Air Beyond

I feel out from every storm,
Wintering the under-blossoms of rivers white to the sky,
Sleeping unchecked into the serious endeavors of all learned men.
This fascination will be my undoing, I feel,
But there is nothing I can do about it.
My fired glass is shaped by these accords,
And this is the lesson I have loved and wondered over since time began in my space.
My everything sits unopened on the windowsill of learning,
Flowers grow outside,
I can feel the wind turning and unlearning all the bright possibilities under the sky
Which I can see without any kind of telescope.
This comfortable burning has set my head and into-my-body to rights.
It is the shape and force of wonder and life,
Precious puzzles left unsolved by the growing network of vines which cover my mind and pierce,
With my blessing,
The undeniable shaking openness that
Wants to breathe the freshest air
Beyond.
This laughter is forever.