Gathering

No, I'm not asleep
I'm just gathering the light of the sun
I'm collecting the drone of workaday bees
and the scent of the earth
and the cool of the grass at my back
I'm storing the heat against the ravage of winter
I'm stacking the days that promise fine
to soften the ones that shower hot sparks
and I'm racking the sound
of a simmering kettle
and touching the places where
sun bends on metal
Feeling the air with the tips of my fingers
testing a movement for the times when I'm still
bending and stretching without moving a muscle
pulling the silences from inbetween words
pushing them closer to spread out the time
and carrying closely the full weight of nothing
to which I can add the lightness of love
and any or all of the selection above
and I've loosened the tick from inside the clock
now time limps along in a haphazard style
lurching from corners I fill up with senses
that one day will hammer and mend all my fences
so, no, I'm not asleep,
I'm just gathering the light of the sun
you'll know when I'm ready and primed like a gun
when I've added the sound
of your voice for awhile
and the weight bends my face
to the shape of a smile