The dark angel is the wilderness,
dense forests, an azure sky,
the dry desert.
Her temple a sanctuary, the eye
within the soul. At the bottom of the labyrinth, lies a seed,
a tiny darkness; doorway into a vast open.
What is it that washes through the shadows?
When the knot has eyes and tells its story, once upon a time.
A fierce opening forward, and/or turning the mind back,
to enter the diamond body, the deathless,
not whole, nor complete, but beginning.
This widening arc of ebb and flood.
The white serpent, he weeps
in rhythm with the rain, the women
gather bones in a net, they hang them from the clouds.
The sounds of nature undulate, in quiet vibration.
The sun’s light strikes at the heart. Jewels
of a universe revealed, they fall
from the clouds like rain, raining
emeralds,
rubies, and amber stars.
The inner life, like tracks on water, seeking
of what might never have been imagined.