Chinaberry
Gleam
Gentle soul, the Spirit caught you
up as a raptor
beating wings, and tore your flesh
and drew you through the night
worlds
and hurled you into deeps where no
sun shines
and the moon is a blind pulse, a
drum unheard,
so you would learn to shine in your
own light
so you would steer by your inner
sun
so you could unwrite the book of
Fate
so that, remembering, you move as a
dancer among your kind,
in the world but not of it, not
different and not the same,
sharing what you have lived at your
heart's core:
love, and courage, the flash of the
sea-horse racing waves,
the gleam of rain on a chinaberry
tree.
Chinaberry photo by Mauraguanandi
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