Natural Ways of Being

1 Water

First, the warm shoulder of the ocean nudges us,
turns our faces to the wind,
carries our prayers
over radio,
over broadcast,
cleans our own faces
of salt        of a lie
with words now
the tides stir.
           Our hatred grows wings --

2 Wind

Love your enemy / Kill your enemy
enemy love to kill
your enemy         love
            And then:
Ah-hem, ah-hem, ah-hem
Love            to kill            your enemy
           And then:
Ah-men, ah-men, ah-men

3 Sand

I am afraid
of the open mouths of shadows
naturally sucking the light, pressing the air
into a habit of infinity.
The humans are desperate.
They gather around beaches
and listen to the red moon
signaling. The ocean
must abandon the edge
at noon, but always returns
by sunset.
Now the humans sigh in unison.
The collective memory
of the ocean floor spreading
like a blanket          tucking us in --

4 Soil

It was very late       when I turned on
the wrong street       to my house.
Preoccupied      by the radio
and rumors of war      I turned on
the wrong street      to my house
and turned right      again,
to the wrong home      It's easy to mistake
one's home for another    when preoccupied
by the radio     and rumors
of war.        I want to know,
you see,          my enemy,
and on my street            all the houses
look            alike           to            me.

5 Fire

We have received instruction:
Burn your enemies
Place them in wooden boxes
Tie them to arrogant trees
and burn the leaves in the grass
that surround them

Let the smoke puncture
the clean gut of your lungs
like a bone

6 Light

Last of all, I am afraid
of the open mouth of time.
It docks in me
the common rib
of our history
-is-no-one-no-where-no--no-one-knows-who-no-one-is--is-no-one-no-where-- no--

7 Dust

One day, no one
tossed an old blue ball into space,
thrust it into the primordial lacuna
of stagnant air,
and adjusted the chair
for a closer look.

The dusty specks clung desperately
seeking to maintain density, dimension,
and here we are
still desperate
still clinging.

One day       I think
these natural ways will end
with no one watching

-- Heather Brondy