we are of the earth but we are also of the stars (working title)

This month I was going to say something about the meaning of life but I lost my notes.

So, instead, here’s an ode to wine. After all, Christmas comes but once a year.

grape4

I think of nights we harvested the grapes.

Under a copper moon we go forth with our baskets.

Our feet are planted on the earth

the earth is in the wine

the moon is in the wine

we reach up strip down the vines

the grapes fall heavy into our baskets

we taste the earth we taste the moon

grape3

in reaching for the grapes we are reaching for the

moon

why not the moon?

why not the stars?

why not the galaxies?

why not somewhere a hundred million light years

away

a parallel universe and someone in that parallel

universe

one hundred million light years away

intoxicated as I on the night and the nose of

new grapes

also moon tripping

 

someone like me or more likely

not like me

someone with a head the size of a pea

a green pea

someone with a brain a speck on a head the size of

a pea

and that brain which may be quite different

from what we think of as a brain

and would almost certainly be

that brain a speck on a head the size of a pea

throbs with condensed energy

throbs faster and faster until it explodes

explodes its energy into space

and a million more planets and suns and moons

and shooting stars

find me

a hundred million light years away

for an instant

not even an instant

a time so minuscule it cannot be measured

me

grapes1

small me

hanging by my toes

from this planet earth

 

thank you wine

for allowing me this trip, this journey to the stars

I was so tired of being trapped in my neural network

 

 

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