when I think of blood drops and little hurts
entering a field filling the field
when I think of dandelions off their leashes
and the Noh play of dragonflies airborne
red and metallic blue     light as silk

when I think that one sigh was the pro-genitor
of all life that the binding of oxygen
and hydrogen is the most erotic calligraphy
that every thought human and otherwise
is an astronomical unit
that each is star-laced to its very core

when I think that inside every genome there
is a line of sight that surrounds the earth
that perception holds the evanescence
of all things within itself
that atoms are in a perpetual state of bliss

when I think that deer move elegantly between
trees like the great tea master Rikyú
did among his bowls     that a deep sea coral
off the Hawaiian Islands is 4000 years old

when I think of parallel universes colonizing
the edges of birdsong when I think that
synaesthesia is the language of God
that flesh covers a wider and deeper pilgrimage

when I sit here knowing this is a dying world
nothing could be more effortless     more sacred
than this sleepy forest at dawn.