Gather around my table

"And I laid upon the table..."

("Summer cannibals", Patti Smith)

Would you gather around my table?
I got three free chairs.
Would you gather around my table?
I watch the random grass and leaves

moving up the balcony over the desert.
I observe the asymmetric symmetry 

of the balcony ornaments.
I hear distant voices.
I watch the ice dissolve.
I watch the stones, the trees;
the passing of time.

I smell the decaying roses 

and feel the bees humming around them. 

I see the white clouds approaching 

as the storm-trailer wind moves my hair. 

The voices are distant enough to not interfere
with the paths of reasoning.
The bell tolls.

The unexpected fields lay ahead.

Would you gather around my table 

and see the untold story unfold? 

Would you slide to the dungeons 

in a slippery journey 

to release the attractive beast 

that lies beyond the fortress? 

Would you invade forbidden
seven-key locked vast extensions 

and sing your heart out 

anywhere I can only hear you?

Would you risk your existence 

for the uncertain grounds of possibility 

and gather around my table 

and be the cadence of the voice that vibrates
in the harmonic core of existence, 

in the epicenter of electricity? 

Fiercely fearless,
I embrace the ice cubes 

and turn them into words 

that transpire my pores as they melt.
The melting inside soaks
to the beat of music.

Would you gather around my table 

and drink silence and caffeine 

and the unwritten poetry and thoughts

that kilometers of blue ink will filter?

Would you gather around my table 

even if there were no me and no table?
I would certainly gather around yours 

in the impossible ethereal possibility 

of all the things that may never happen.