One Day
One day, out of this fleshy cocoon I will rise like a golden bird of silent wing graceful as the smoke of a fallen flame. I will dream no more of places hidden—secreted away in heaven's cleft where the foot leaves no print.
One day, I will walk in gardens holding hands with my creation and creator. We will touch one another like lovers torn by death to say goodbye. We will lay in one another's arms until we awaken as one invisible to the other.
One day, I will isolate the part of me that is always present. I will dance with it like moonlight on water. I will hold it to myself in a longful embrace that beats perfection in the hymn of the Songkeeper.
One day, when I curl away inside myself I will dream of you this flesh-covered-bone of animal. I will yearn to know your life again. I will reach out to you as you now reach out to me. Such magic! Glory to covet the unknown! That which is is always reaching for the self that cheats appearances. Who dreams itself awake and asleep. Who knows both sides of the canvas are painted, awaiting the other to meld anew.