All the room you need

Illuminated, the folds of heaven.
Bitten torn feathers.
With plucked thorns from our skulls.
That you and me.
Bittersweet.
Red, like the veins of a tree in autumn.
Washed in golden light.
Drunk with sacred hymns that sing in your bones.
I see the lotus bloom in your eyes.
I want to hear your temple sing.
These snow covered aspects, higher.
Above the shelf we cannot reach.
Tickled by the zephyr underneath.
No longer the caged bird that sings.
But the sparrow that stole the sky.

Advertisements

Mother

Out of the dark, like a Pisces rising.
The ship of salvation on this sanctified horizon.
Oh mother, why do those tears of glass never shatter?
Who wipes away those beads when the world turns over?
We hum the hymns in a frantic manner.
Coughing up rosaries like pearls from the sea.
Yet a pain in your heart vibrates underfoot.
Quaking the earth and displacing my faith.
Not in you, oh mother, the salvation in my sadness.
But in a world I find as sticky as tar, and dark as oil.
Resistant to your holy water.
Tis such vanity I make your image so beautiful.
Mirroring the love I have for my mother of body.
The one I share cells with.
Divine DNA.
So I roll my eyes back, and taste the pain away.
Losing your son.
As impotent as God to intervene in fate.
And I pray, and kiss your blessed feet.
Giving up the holy image in my mind.
Loving you for the first time,
as someone who I always knew.