I love the moments of silence that are here,
the trebles and the wobbles,
the tipped toes and the high brows,
with the skin stretched over bones,
like a cathedral –
one brick at a time.
over there in the temple of flowers,
the leaves whip by in the wind
and soar into the tipped outline of feathered wings –
they do this every day,
somewhat cheekily as they tickle by your ears
and ask, are you my tree?
today your otherness is meeting the dawn,
all the other ness’s too –
your highness, your lowness, your softness, your hardness –
today they’re all awash with skin, fingers, eyes and lips.
the world looks fiery with the light of every human being
in every way of being
why did you said yes,
to the possibilities and the drama?
You laugh and say, exactly.