YOU

You are the joy at the end of the rainbow.
The sniff of something callifragilistic
At the crossroads of love and hate.
The pure reason
That feeds the dark heart of the engine
On impossible missions
To recover beauty for beauty’s sake.
You are the tumult
In the washing machine’s engine
Spewing madness
Among the blossoming cherry blossoms.
The remembrance of a golden walk
In springtime along the banks of the River Zu.
You are the passion
Spilling out like a ripe coconut.
The congealing that lingers
Between star-crossed lovers
In that film down at the mall.
The promise that flies in the face of the sun.
The serpent that leaps into the unknown.
The parabola that breaks down enroute to Brooklyn.
The hair raising antics of a juggler
Hell bent on throwing a dozen
Switchblades in the air.
The optimum temperature of survival.
The broken dish mended by a wish and a prayer.
You are all that and so much more.
I can’t deal with it.
Much less define it.
Explicate it.
Reason with it.
Break it down into phonemes.
You rock.
You fern.
You tree.
You lip.
You frog.
You toy.
You tot.
You imp.
You submarine.
You aircraft carrier.
You intimate whisper.
You long lasting kiss.
You implication that left the room.
You left turn at the light.
You rumination that spins
Around in endless swirls
Before ascending
To your great heights.
Your towering stories.
Your great plains.
Your warm bed
At the end of a very long day.