I was out to escape brooding about
great weights of the world dividing
my flesh from its better half. Luckily,
my wild love was sitting right there beside me
prescribing me to watch the birds,
reading me ancient healings that make people
wince and whine Devil, and tying my hair
in knots with the grass
and calling them God—then:
Now eyes closed,
hands heart center—
breath from spine
to the back of your mind.
Open your eyes.
I opened my eyes, and
a moon-mingling horizon folded
over my miniature mind
among the tree-lined stars behind
the sky who showed me a peacock
gown against the newly unzipping sky of night.
Next she spoke of fruits of knowledge—
then pulled an apple from her basket of beads and
we sank our teeth gladly into the taste of time.
She pulled the setting sun over her glazed eyes
and sold our names to the sand under fading azure,
under grazing grounds of spirited light
where we wrote our sacred lai.