Borne Aloft like the Seed of Grace

Wind. Delicious, supple as a kiss,
as a shirt lifting. Like the one loved
and lost, tossed from where it dried
on the fence. In spring, green
cotton ruptured by ribs of grass.

Time slides around the sun, moon. Sky
arches, a great pelvis birthing this life.
Open your door. God flows in,
fragrant and flagrant as the lover
you’ve awaited. How the child arrives,
on waves of breath.

Bare yourself. Become the seed,
the song, naked in the lap of love.

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