Crawl of vines
inside
the window.
How can you breathe
without air?
Fresh, profuse tendrils.
My fingernails,
green like Spring.
Celine, worms
with five hearts
fill the earth
create the soil
out of which we grow.
The spirits are watching.
My mouth fills with loam
thick, rich humus.
Do I seek
what is too deep
and far away
from sunlight?
Thin mantle of earth
that supports us.
Remove the screen
find pure green.
It was the vines
that undid everything.
I'll tell you what's sacred.
Not the gods out there.
This flare of life
in the shrine
of our bodies.
This flare of life
ReplyDeletein the shrine
of our bodies.
(o)
(o) thanks... MB
ReplyDeleteAs above, so below, so within....
ReplyDeletebrenda, this is beautiful! i woke at 2:30 am and couldn't go back to sleep... too full of all those fears that smother me in the darkness. i was grateful to find exactly what i needed here...
ReplyDelete"this flare of life
in the shrine
of our bodies"
so beautiful. thank you.
e_journeys :) that's a mystic's mantra!
ReplyDeleteSnowsparkle, fears that smother you in the darkness... oh! Hope it didn't last long! Glad this poem helped at such an hour... xo