SYNTHESIS
by Tucker Lux SYNTHESISIt can happen anywhere
all at once.
Memories bring
trees to applause
cooling, brushing skin
envelop
invade.
Summer’s first whisper
brings all
wayward ghosts home
from haunting the scent
I trail.Medicine for a fractured heart,
split so many ways
Midwestern air
prairie sweet.
If I have known you,
you are here too.
Without knowing, you
inhaled
exhaled
sent a piece of yourself
into my own lungs
my bloodstream
my heart and mind
and I pass you along again,
better for the draft.
ESTABLISHMENTBare feet planted
still, still,
eyes closed.
Will your pores open.
Will roots from the soles of your feet
down deep, deeper
grabbing hold, pushing up
through cold crusted soil,
through concrete,
through broken glass,
through isolation,
through resignation.
Cultures begin in the seeds
in the soil
and rise toward the heavens
reaching, straining up
like branches,
like wheat stalks,
like every green growing thing
to truth,
to light,
to love,
to kingdom come. EXCHANGEThe quiet economy
of rubbing shoulders
takes from us
and makes us all
more than ourselves.
Let’s be honest.
Our own voices
are not the only ones
we hear.
No one’s vision is unaided.
We all owe more than we have
to give back.If I have ever
known you,
called you friend,
know you
have become my eyes.
SECONDHANDWe pay good money
to watch the man
believe in himself.Diversion comes free these days.
We are here to watch culture take shape,
hear it
reverberate and change
the world’s rhythms:
resurrection chord by chord.How many are here
with their good money
for secondhand faith?
And how many have open ears,
willing hands,
and leave closer
to living something
that can bear believing?
SPRINGGo out.
Suck this air
down deep, full
of health
laced with
hayfield and pine.
Heavy
with memories,
with prophecies
of renewal,
of sun-warmed freckled skin,
bare feet.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Close your eyes.
Repeat.
Let it open your pores
open your dreams and unleash them.
You have found
the fountain of youth. About the Author: Tucker Lux hails from Toledo, Ohio, where he savors his wife, and kids, and breath, and friends, and where he teaches Middle School English, and reads, and listens, and sometimes writes words of his own. |
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