To my Lili Marzipan

I.

Today I thought of you, Lili Marzipan.

I thought of gold tresses and dancing

Eyes and light laughter. I thought of

Motherhood and giving hands and

Sacred crystals and a heart.

Dark silhouette of branches against moonlight,

Swaying in wind so sudden. Jack-o-lanterns

(Why, I still do not know), summer, old jalopies,

Angels with hay hair watching over you.

Small children, old children, forty year old children

(As we all are children in your eyes.) Blossoming waterfalls,

Pale blue with the cold and fish tears and wishes

And pennies thrown in long ago by the hopeful.

Rainbows illuminating from the live water.

Clouds, big and fluffy, tumultuous, peaceful,

Passing by, gray, silver linings attached.

Indiana, Missouri, New York (oh! New York!)

Abandoned apartment buildings, ginger chews,

Overalls, fuck this bra and free the nipple, free my mind,

My soul, my chakras. Align me. Do what is good.

Eat your colors. Strong soft hands and blue,

Over and over again, blue. And pink. Freckles.

Soft pout, fresh basil, loud affirmative verbage,

No fear wrapped in layers of stoic fear. A craze.

Unapologetic. A backbone growing among sunflowers,

Reaching to a Source. And again those dark,

Mysterious branches. Mother Moon. Love,

love

love

love

love.

So much it engulfs and blinds and leads.

Earth shaking with grief and joy and indescribable outburst.

Witch hazel. Witch. Hazel. Coffee, cappuccino, frozen hot chocolate.

Innumerable memories. Messy buns. Ceaseless sighing.

Falling down, rising, dusting off, walking again. Where?

Into a sunset? Yes, and endless sunrise also.

II.

Lili Marzipan,

I thought about what wallflowers must think

When they see you sitting there, alone,

Without help or stable home,

Wondering what to do with your money,

Your time, your love. Ripped away always?

You could never see it that way. It is not in your nature.

You are a saint in a world of dogs. (Sloppy,

Expectant friends of mankind.)

Mother Mary, Joseph, Jesus, Buddha,

Lucifer, YHWH, Andromeda, Zeus, G.O.D.

Palm touching light, burning,

Leaving melted skin on the surface of the world.

"I feel like I am waiting to grow old." You are already so.

Wizened, beautiful queen who consumed all of the Youth Fountain.

What message did you find?

"Learn to blend in."

How can you? If I was you I would want to shout

And squirm and skyrocket in abundance,

Extra arms extending through endless space.

How can a wildflower bloom so quietly?

III.

Today the gods sing for you,

In remembrance and reverence of what is and is to come.

We will be here, full circle.

Children's innocent souls running through fields.

Ladybugs and moths and mariposas.

Apple juice and prime breakfast food.

Juno cats. Death cards. Star beams. Bob Fosses.

Claude Debussy. Father Bow of Grace.

Old hymns resounding.

Alma maters that freed you and shackled you.

Riverboat towns where you could buy your house.

Coasts. Oceans. Starfish. Stick stars.

Glowing plastic stars. Sisters. Brothers.

Wolves howling, coyotes yapping,

Owls cooing. Guitars. A big bowl of cherries.

Dark auditoriums, thrumming

With the excitement of an opening curtain.

Tap shoes. Candy canes. Endless frightened lovers.

String bracelets. Crystal lakes.

One soft breeze floating through the tops of deciduous fingers.

Michigan. Origins. The globe endlessly turning

(Or the plate endlessly spinning).

Reassurance that it does not matter

Whether or not Christ lived; what did he do?

What do all the great masters do?

Do you hear us yet? We call back to you.

Do not give up. Do not give up. Do not give up.