mother by marriage says we’ll go to see Mother Mary but I know you know better
drinking in the sacrament of breath…
…Symposium of spirits concentrate there,
a kiss to sustain the learning world when by day and night
only to meet the gathered light and song and with new refrain go right back IN
TO bodies as
shining epistles altering helices and species
but earthly love is lost in translation just as Love is on earth
and the infection spreads
Dear letters swim through sky like butterfly tracery writ before each wondering mind’s subsequent shift in degree
orienting to khwaravisu, the exact answer.
but when I ask, they less and less appear
locked in the solids humanity uses to
lock himself in his own (the possessive — also untranslatable) mass, matter, and mind stuck in position unoiled, unable to see a different constellation than the one in front of his eyes
when I recall their laughter
I disperse in form to set some free
by this body and blood,
Oh precious breathing beating ones!
bond and bestow as hyacinth and honeybee
but the beloved Words become like shells of long since transfigured insects
Creatures defined by “their” houses or margins, not by God-given wings
and we are never loved so much as the day we were born
the day we were nailed to a tree.
©2018, Amaya Engleking
*khwaravisu is a transcription of a word that ‘swam’ to me in the dawn of my spiritual awakening that means “made to live/participate in breath” or “immediate affirmation of God’s Love”.