…gathered herself into the everything
since before there was a thing to call time,
shafts of blue-red light, carrying the
motes on which my auburn love floats.
…was the ancient kiln built in a browned,
weathered heart-home into which I fed the
dreamstuff from which lives grow, the
firstfallen fruits of Fate’s first snow.
…mothered my crawling self, the sea on
which I sailed my soul, the running toward
a she-shaped hole, the flailing toward a
pyre onto which I cast half-sung notes.
…bade me enter, surrounded my ache,
filled crying eyes with a million million
fireflies, set my mind to thoughts of
shared lives, two twinned minds at ease.
…is this gift, the bridge crossing the
deepened chasm from there to
everywhere, smiles of suns high in
cloudless blue skies, this earthen Angel.