Kayanya

I used to believe I was eloquent but only while the words were inside my head, tumbling about, grazing the skies of my inner world. Coming out they stumbled into a strange place, not knowing how to tread and thread; folding into strange shapes and knots not suitable for linearity. Written on a surface they line up well enough arranged in neat stacks and rows, escaping the confining dimension of time by flattening out all the parallel pockets of space-time. My hands are more eloquent, able to add the dimension of shapes and colours, speaking in crystal shards and strange crosshatched riddles, and pouring my strange mental vision into shimme

Postindustrial confusion the running of train tracks on noisy mornings human cogwheels of an abstract machine talking to grey floors with cheap boots While the diffuse rumbling of listless wagons hails a new load of morning every five minutes we wait confused but not knowing Electric melancholy tristesse of sourceless rain and desaturated autumn but the void between torn out pipes and abandoned preliminary tunnels never touched by trains are no space waiting to hear our tales.

Humming to the rain telling it a little welcome hmm hmm thunder, where art though been? I missed your booming company. Long time no see, dear lightning; missed your flashing smile. Clouds, though you hide my beloved stars, I embrace your nightly shade, knowing the air is still flowing, the world still turning for tonight.

I could be so much more Something so much bigger I could be – Just give me the freedom of the sky, the love of the fields; Let my hands touch the hills and my soul the rocky, cloudy mountain tops – Just let me breathe, breathe so much more, so much higher air and so much deeper ground, just let me breathe out all the words I could not speak in the same eloquence; Let me form my words in the palms of wooden hands, of oak trees and wise old pines, let my thoughts be sung by tiny birds in aromatic southern coniferes down by the shore. Just let me be, just let me breathe; Just don’t ask me to speak in the vague little chunks int

My world is not your world But I want you to meet me In fields where I can breathe On mountains where I am free My paths are not your vision But won’t you walk with me for just one day Below trees whispering of old dreams On silent dust, through drumming rain My feet cross lands you’ll never know But just once, follow the threads I lay Across stones marking secret smiles Back to hazy borderlands Meet me there, in places you haven’t learned to realize Two levels down, up the broken stairs, brush off the faded varnish Unsee the walls, slip through the cracks, meet me some day.

Still the stars are spinning Meet me below their trails, find me on the hill Still our star is burning Find me in a fire-lit cave, meet me when the cold has won for the night Still we are travelling on silent orbit Keep watch with me when the turnings seems to hasten Tell the wordless stories, sing familiar songs on repeat Remind me the sky still is there When you find me

Make the stars spin, make them dance for me, make the stars spin, crashing burning shadows in the sea – Make the stars spin, follow blazing trails in wakening dreams, make the stars spin, colours running together at our minds’ seams – Make the stars spin, follow me, let’s ride on comet tails, make the stars spin, ride with me when language fails.