In your many names I see . . .
frank sense . . . demure . . . poetry
where did you go,
I miss your dreams.
. . . to heaven sent . . .
our grapes . . . our tea . . . our sacrament.
My voice is hoarse . . . feathers black . . .
In my coffin . . . on my back . . . I'm spent.
Come open up, let me out . . .
Release me from this awful drought.
You met me with fields of waving grain . . .
Yet fed me dreaming again
for your brother and lover,
Osiris who came
is it possible . . .
To put him together again.
. . . You will find each other. . .
. . . You're his sister, wife and mother.
I saw your dance today two ears of corn . . .
. . . Isis instead of a microphone . . .
I saw your dance . . . heard your voice . . .
Felt your trance . . . amidst glances
. . . of a dozen admiring boys.
I wanted to talk to you . . .
Of wishes and dreams. .
to meditate upon your clues
And compose your light in beams.
Two rivers . . . fresh and blue . . .
joined . . . and talked . . . a mournful tune.
The river road floated north,
No need to drive . . . or walk . . . this you know . . .
Dark? . . . this isn't true. .
light inside . . . the rest just isn't you . . .
You light my back . . .
to prove . . .
take any dimension . . .
. . . up to you.
Alas you would . . .
come through resurrection . . .
And once risen . . .
would see me differently.
the hurt heart . . .
wanting . . .
the world do its part
If there were no fear else . . .
Fear rolls the wheel
. . . of Kali's cart.
a body has no time to heal
. . . spirited away in sixteen parts.
I await again . . .
. . . where it is dark . . .
