Resussifuckintation

I feel shadowed,
pursued by an Odyssean star
trekking through twilight
sails set for dawn–
three transpacific flights
in forty eight hours
plastic oxygen and fluorescent lights
aboard a tin can bird in the sky.

I’ve just arrived from Bali
via Seoul, via Chicago, via Seattle
a tattered vagabond,
hatches battened for high winds,
delayed flights,
turbulence.
I need a Dewey button for the longest
journey ever made to Artfest–
maybe a sash and a crown,
a bouquet of congratulations.

I feel over-pink, saddle sore,
like a blister.
I need release. I need relief.
Sleep.

But oh the journey is long and long
stretching back beyond miles
and momentos,
beyond silver-leafed souvenirs
beyond blurred photographs
taken from the back of a crowded motorbike,
beyond sandalwooded canopies
and yellow fragrant rice,
beyond ponds made of rose petals
and ginger-flavored milk,
beyond the rows of women
braiding palm fronds for Krishna
stringing marigolds for Ganesh
lighting incense to Buddha, to Shiva, to Life.

I feel worn.
Stained from coffee and sweat,
too much sun.
Haggard with beauty-exhaustion,
overripe and ready to fall
to the ground.
I need reclamation.
Redemption.
Resusci-fuckin-tation.

But bring me the neck aches,
the stiff muscles,
the limp bones,
the lopsided grins.
I’ll trade each of them for memory
and call myself rich.
Rich with the slick silk of Python
and Elephant’s burlap back.
Rich with saffron tea and tangled monkey tails.
Rich with green-grassed terraces
and dragons made of moss,
stones older than sky,
volcano songs,
thunder songs,
hymns made of sun-drenched wind,
villages whose ancestors still dance
under temples made of trees
and smiles made of yes.

Bring me the wayfaring journey,
the wandering moon over
Orian’s skies
for my heart is a battered
light-drinking pilgrim.
I stand at the gates of Jet Lag,
braiding palm fronds,
stringing marigolds, lighting incense.

For me the sojourning soul
wearied and hungry,
thick-eyed and limping,
awash in surrender.
Bring me your wild abandon whim.
I’ll trade this one-way ticket
for a carousel horse
pierced with wanderlust,
tattooed with joy
spilling Polaroids of laughter.

Bring me a lullaby.
Bring me a Tylenol.
Bring me a nap.

Bring me alive.