13: Desert

Mama had a dream,

that Jesus

walked all over: me,

my hips and joints, feet, hands crushed in

his gentle stride. The weight of a Kingdom, he was.

No pain, he was

lost but patient

on my dark bosom, pacing the dune,

my heart. Each grain became his

human kindness, and I

in his last step, kissed his sole,

before

         he sat down on me.

Wide awake, now so calm; I am not

chasing her dream

but just letting him sit, stay

as long as he wishes. I know

         you can feel when love rises

in you, like a flood and you can pour it from your mind; Mama said, but

what I feel is more than rising water; it is overtop; it sits and

I am submerged by this:

         my mind coming down

and what; I am most peaceful with

is something in the world of her eye she cannot see, like the sound

in the canyon of her ear she cannot hear

the wind touching everything, and even now shaping

the desert that found Christ