On the day of death meets life,
There is cold on this side,
And it pushes the living me away, a-sway.
That is where it opens and closes.

I banish a resentment
And my body shivers, pins-and-needles,
A swarm of wasps flying away.
This is how curses leave.
They return to their hive.

A whirlwind spins
Butterflies of wind;
Glittering gold dust;
Drops of shimmering dew;
A flickering mirage;
Into a ringing bell that resonates
With the Earth as its clapper.
May there be Peace to all the World.

A tendril reaches up
And coils another spooled root
Onto the Tree of Life.
It stays where it is born.
It is the germination of a miracle.

And always there are phantom currents
Lifting me up,
Dragging me down,
As I learn to swim them.

In dreams,
I stood by the pool that existed in my inner dark.

Ageless She stood by the far side:
Dark tressed, night-eyed, fair skin luminous; and
Robe the blue hidden below blue,
And radiant with blue,
And always truest blue.

Perpetual He swam beneath the surface:
Scales silvered and pinked, clever-eyed, a light in the water; and
Full of secrets that never knew they were
Secrets and both sly and generous,
That hidden instinct.

She looked on me and
Reached from Above to pull Him,
The Id that dwelt in water,
Up into Her white hands and whispered words
(Quiet words I never heard – secrets from me)
And He squirmed and murmured
Disrespectful responses.

And so They conferred on Ego.

She met my eyes, star to iris:
“You are steeped in ennui.
Why are you steeped in ennui?”

And then only the Question was left
As They left me to ponder my unnatural stillness.