the daily body of everything

A fervent, tender wind lifts

the wheel of itself

above the daily body

of everything.

The luminous phrase

the fox hums in her willingness

travels straight into the

ghost of my woodpile heart.

Emptiness, tiger, honeycomb, puddle:

nothing is not you,

unstoppable and attentive,

the lord of gorgeous

little weeds

and ant language.

Everywhere, I hear

the porcelain music

your light unfolds.

 

©Laura Sorrells 2012

all rights reserved

 

Done