Liquid Imagination
written by: Theresa Gaynord
She dreams in language, a kind of symbolic
paint akin to her personality, a method of
confrontation that forces her to focus and
write. Seeing the word water, she becomes a
flowing river, just a river, nothing else;
propelling through moistened roots of life that
have grown rich and nourishing by the passionate
spill of a full moon. There are small breaths to
the swells that are an integral part of her being,
and she flows half-held by darkness,
for it knows her skill, holds all her secrets
and doesn’t care; doesn’t point an accusing finger
when she weeps prouder, more bluntly and rashly
with the range and grief of a melody. Her philosophy
of life is to build, to order things differently,
to reason what she wants to, the way she wants to,
keeping track of her path as she clears it with force,
with power, sidestepping with the flow here and there
coaxed and driven by desire; filling in the gaps between
positive thoughts and vital ideas.
When water enters a dream, it becomes spiritual fodder
for liquid imagination that retells in words the sexual
synchronization of running amuck, as you wish
yourself a good voyage, even when you sink, before
stepping out into the open once again.
- Liquid Imagination - July 21, 2020
