Do you think sky
got used to
seeing itself?
After discovering
stars and planets winding
in its every cell…

Imagine seeing
stars in yourself
for the first time and knowing
Rain is falling
in the soles of your feet,
your palms
hold clusters of light, stars
born in your eyebrows.
Day and night
pass through you, the moon,
an atom among galaxies
decorating the vastness
of your limbs.

No,
Sky never
got used to that.

An awe reverberates

Now
A present moment
doesn’t exist.
Whats all the
fuss about?

My friend saw the moon
through a window she’d
never noticed before.

Breath is the bow
Body, the strings
Listen to your song

Bustling in the streets,
symphony

Stars drop into pine needles
Meadow offers a stage
for wild colors to dance
in blooming flowers; for bugs
to perform songs they’ve been rehearsing
all winter long. The performance
is stunning.

Here I have a platter
filled with nourishing offerings
and exotic sweets.
It’s as if I dismiss
the gift and blindly
demand honey.

Jacket sleeves of sky
Clouds gather, patching secrets
Night whispers to dawn

Time spent in
motion, concerned
with a view.

Ah yes, perfect so
I sit and then

close my eyes its
gorgeous everywhere.

I.

Every morning, sun
whispers a path for
us to walk
into the sanctuary and kiss
the inner chambers
of our hearts, lay our
heads
on its beating feet.

II.

I am still
bowing
even though I
stood upright

Stepping out, sanctuary
Lucid sky stays so
still
Receptive to any song.

So vain, I am
always looking
in the mirror.

Sky mirror, a
sanctuary for
bees to pray in and a
gospel service
for little, red birds.

Veins soften I see
myself lucid blue
reflection, space
for peach tree blossoms to
cry as infants and lilies
with petals folded like hands
in prayer.

We look so
beautiful
in Spring.

I.
Earth sings
back to early spring birds:

daffodils blooming,
green meadow.

II.
What if flowers
were too afraid and
self-conscious
to bloom?

Ocean and moon meet
in these river veins.

Tides still, potent between
heart beats. Crevices
of mountain peak illuminated
at the bottom of exhales.

Mercury and Jupiter sink to souls
of lion feet pressed
heel, toe pads into floor.

Mars, a pulsating red glow just
beneath my navel and
stars
swim like schools of fish
in this moon ocean.

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