Whole
Here is a poem I wrote a few days ago after a particularly rich, self-facing, nature-emergent day.
I
Throw your ego to the wolves
and the sparks of your youth will fly towards you.
You go to meet that ancient child—
you,
as future self.
Imperfectly perfect
with your secrets
worn as flowers in your hair.
II
I lay on the ground today,
bits of it still lie on my back
as I sit here
remembering
the touch of it
the feel of it
the weight of my body—
like a fallen tree
and then
I lay on the cement,
and watched the clouds undress
the moon.
This morning I read that clouds
weigh as much as 20 elephants.
I weigh as much as heaven when I’m upside down.
III
I faced my self underground—
she had ribbons as roots
and no desire
other than to know me
exactly as I am.
Future and past,
lion & queen
madly mated in holy ritual.