lorem ipsum inquisitat

Have you noticed the ground, so steady and callous beneath your feet?
And have you bothered to be thankful for it?
Did you listen as the green blades like little knives exchanged parries and ripostes?
And did you translate it into your own tongue?

Do you believe in love at first sight, the power of God, or forests at night?
And have you bothered to step onto the swaying bridge of action (around which hangs the strange air of faith; under which runs the unkind river of failure)?

Was there something you wanted to say? (or am I misreading that semi-illegible scrawl of your eyes?)
And did you think of opening your mouth before your eyes?
Aren't you forgetting your first love when you walk so carelessly on the holy grounds?
And have you bothered to retrace your steps into a well-watered curtain of repentance?
And have you bothered to desire a change, a flight of birds, a renewed reason?

Weren't you achingly glad of rest when you first found it?
And are you going to go on forgetting what it's worth as you hold it casually by the throat?
Weren't you achingly glad to rest when you first were laid down?

What less could you do before the face of justice, falling into lines of open-armed pleasure as you walk in in gladness of rest?
And have you bothered to remember there was nothing less? (have you bothered to fall with laughter into open arms that ask nothing of you?)

Can you ask nothing more of the broad-shouldered days of summer than brown skin and a piece of laughter?
And do you mean to ignore me, so peacefully disabled, so tortuously controlled, until fall stumbles onto us?
Do you recall where you meant to go, before the path grew over around you?
And have you bothered to lie on the ground, listening for something to guide you?
And have you bothered to listen for the echoes of guiding feet, pounding feet, righteous feet?

What if the ground sways? (what if it sways when he walks by?)
Will that ingratiate uncomprehension, grinning, disappearing slowly, to your unconsciousness?
What if the last remaining route is over a chasm like losing yourself to an enemy?
And have you bothered to lace your 14i black boots? (have you bothered to wonder what good they'll do you?)

Will you hear me repeat one last liturgy between gentle coughs?
And will you think to rearrange your face into a half-smile over the saintly words and called-up memories?
Will you let me try one last experiment over your tattered, stubborn body? (will you neglect to remind me that no experiments are necessary?)
And have you bothered to challenge me on this, to pull at my scalpel with the insistence of a hungry child?
And have you bothered to open your eyes in my direction so I can see them as hungry as they are?

What if the ground sways? (what if it sways when he walks by?)

Will that move you to move with it?