How God Thinks Is Surprising
My mother and I are two swans intertwined.
We show the world stage our connection, our closeness.
The bond never fades. God is director of the play.
We’re part of each other,
a continuation of movement, dance, beauty.
Together we form a whole, a heart, an angel.
Our core holds a plate to be filled with life.
We create and celebrate every reason,
the symmetry of our truth a vision, an offering.
We invented time.
The more we make it disappear,
the closer to God we grow.
I understand the nature of plants,
living off the land and rain.
I used to be a flower.
I like morphing into an animal,
devouring who I was.
The earth never fails me.
A timeless magical woman
born from rocks
holds a shard of mirror
the shape of a star.
It shows me who I am
and reflects nothing.
I want to find home,
pollinate an expansive nest,
to reveal the hidden
memory of the universe.
Life works out better later
like a cactus eventually blooms,
celestial gift, irresistible magnet,
refusal to stop playing
when all seems lost,
mind focused on infinity.
We have fallen into the place
where everything is music.
Are we always more fascinated by the legend?
What if myth meets you en el camino, healer
in the heart of compassion, peacemaker
smiling its message on piano keys, dusting
the bookcase of life, whistling
follow your pen, be a song?
I blow wishes into the universe, celestial
cape, matrix to subdue
demons and possess truth.
Surprised by my lunar earth nature,
inhabited by ancient forests,
I molt into flying serpents,
pelicans touching wings,
magnets of expanded vistas,
a crest crowned by doves,
in its center the caduceus
entwined identity, magician’s score,
water weeping out of hands.