BUILDING YOUR MOBILE
First of all, birth dreamshapes:
azure star-twists, golden crescents
risen up like dolphins from realms
below your sight. Silvery scimitars,
pale spirals too, cut id-guided
from spangled posterboard
and dayglo banners.

Sprawl these out in riotous array
to tease your ordered ego and
whisk it faraway. Hang them
in sibling twos and threes
on balance-beams to twirl
like soothing constellations
above our quirky hurts.

I’d like to be a mobile,
swirling softly over
whipped audiences of earners,
gentling them to rest, taking
time to muse on destiny, lost
loves, and other minor matters.