I’m back again
lying back to back
in colder soil
limbs
rooted in between
my old childhood trees
counting
furtive steps along a spider’s web,
Moon overlooking us
while we rest.
in my memory
I am small again,
hidden among stars unmoved by wind–
an eternity still
left in my breath
as I chased moonfall and moonglow
over flower fields,
magic calling me
in the velvet air.
Spider dear,
how many cycles has the Moon seen?
we are all the same in the end,
the years humming and rolling on
as the Earth breathes.
soon
I will be back again,
curled up forever among these trees
while your great-great grandchildren
weave webs over me
from memory
the Moon, all-knowing,
will have blinked once
and simply moved on.
Previously published in The Alien Buddha’s Arcane Magick (Alien Buddha Press)
Deja una respuesta