Lacy MacAuley


a home for my pen, projects, and passions

we are the edge

Long to Become Song 02-14-2013 2

If I say that I’ve always loved you

Please trust that it is true.

I’ll ring that Tibetan bowl

that calls you home
to the red, thumping place

that’s in your chest.

If someone has to say the code
speak the password
that splits the particles
to cause your personal explosion
then I will find that bright red button
that says “Unauthorized – Do Not Push.”
I’ll burrow that one tunnel
that allows the sunlight to pass deep inside
and beneath the earthen mound
and let the light inside
to warm the bones of your neglected hope.
I promise to come every solstice

with rays of light that are yours only

to fall on your lips and tongue.

My people, if we are not the branches that hold each other
we will fall

if we are not the roots that gently cradle each other,
we will erode to the sea.

If what you need is my hands on your skin

Then I promise that I shall be the wind that blows for you only.

There is no lover like the wind

she can lift your senses with her quiet subtlety

or she can ravage each square inch of your skin

carry you off with her passion.

Whether you need soft petrissage to your tired shoulders
burdened from carrying the broken things cast on you

by careless arms long ago
Or whether you need a swift heel to your backside
I shall be there to deliver the healing blows,

blow, blowing warm air or blowing up in anger,

whatever you require to decide… to feel.

If what you need is the steady ringing of my hammer

as I shape your mind of metal

into the soft curve of something

that ring, ring, rings out the songs of freedom,

then I will be there with my box of tools.

If what you need is that soft sway

of the dance partner that you never had

with an extended hand

and toes that are strong enough

for you to step on a thousand times,

then I shall join with you, and be waiting

in a living pool of orgasmic freedom

waiting for you to test my waters.

If what you need is my sharp blade

that has slain dragons and been put to service

hacking long warrior paths through the jungle

Then you have my arm and my sword

at the ready.

If what you need is the calm eyes of the ancients

that watch you from the treetops

and the throats of birds as they sing phrases born of starlight

then you need only to extend a hand

and turn that predictable brass door knob

to find a world to roll in

as if it were your first day of honey in a decade of salt.

We will play the music,

and we will hold your hope for you

and protect the fire

as if it were the last light on earth

in a coal-black mine shaft of humanless silence.

We will dance here on the edge

of your peripheral vision

and keep the music alive

just on the horizon of your ears.

Because we want you to shout.

We need you to shout.

We need your beautiful eyes

and your sacred voice

and your cherished feet

to begin walking this way

and this way, and that way.

We are the edge of your awareness

and the unused portions of the giant muscle in the core of your chest

the gusts of air moving unnoticed in and out, in and out

of your lungs

that long to become song.

We are waiting for you to come, come, come

grow into us as a plant longs for the sun.

Grow into that future self just beyond

that crack in your carefully-built exoskeleton.

Explode – without stopping to count the blades of grass

on the hillside that you are about to roll down.

We are here, we are waiting for your enchanted self.

We are ready to love you as you have never been loved before.

We are ready to trust deeply into the dark nebula of the past

and navigate all of those treacherous waters

We have nothing but time for you and you only.

We wait with open arms, if you would only bring your divine self

to find a way to walk through that door – you know exactly where it is.

Though it might be broken.

We will be here to help you pull yourself through.

Please. Come. Come out.


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