This Visionary

In the jungle of your body,

I wake to find that sleep

has begged for questions.

You are not response, but

living, breathing, organism

of fault and virtue, poised

like the leopard of your anger,

like the parrot of your laugh,

like the coiled snake

of your religion

of both departure and devotion

caked in the ears and

covering the eyes:

you preach a love

of sight

when we look only into

the abundance of the Mind

having let go of

fickle interests,

fake and contorted,

totally obsolete

when faced with the mystery

of yourself, dreamworld Eternity,

masking-tape stripped off

and disposed of in the stream.


West Vancouver

after Nettle Mint & Anise Organic Herbal Tea