Spirit rides the levee, rests against the stones and wait, feeling the cloth of deep ocean tide, traveling.
What do I touch between branches and bells that chime the deep bending cycle inner memory? What is the water that feeds softly? You call, I listen, I will carry the day into my heart.
A photo of night upon your brow, this ink upon my eyelids. The broken world of stars brings about the sweetness of dragonflies.
How we dance! With open breaths, every thing is a leap toward colored light.
- Muriel Rukeyser