Do Not Utter A Word Poem by RIC BASTASA

despite the sleepiness the fingers grapple for syllables
for a mumbojumbo or an abracadabra towards another
state of being when your logical mind finds rest where
another kind of mind speaks the tongues of images in
sleep.

full orange moon wades in deep blue horizon of the sea.
the waves dance with the wind but in this stupor there is
no sound.

like a silent movie you watch in a distance with your eyes
closed.

this is the numbness of reason like children playing in the
park layered with leaves fallen from trees. This is the state
of falseness, an abracadabra, another abracadabra and then
the door opens for you.

do not utter a word. do not choose a syllable. let the good in us
flow in a state of our helplessness.