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Michael's Dervish

Let’s whirl across a yellow sky, wind it tight with wonder.

Let’s pledge to shelter the soft and sensitive.
This devotion is flame ready, rendering promise
like blackened fields, seed heads popping in epiphany,
ready to incite a murder of crows, heckle of dragons, a fold of tigers.
Ready to sound the bell that brings back our breath.

Let’s paint the clouds purple, whirl them into billows of prayer.

Let’s imagine a summons for gentle rain,
for gardens breaking open like my heart;
imagine light dancing and dappled under green canopies,
and elephant gods swinging every obstacle sunward.

It is ecstasy we ferry from shadow, out of a  yellow sky.


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