I am awake now to each wall.
That is the wall, this need to speak.
There’s Buddha’s tall and Buddha’s small
And secret castles across this creek.
I want to walk on ancient clouds
And fall with Isis from the sky.
Plop, splashing down the Nile,
These hands that swim know how to fly.
From Memphis to Syr’ya we’ll go
As Roman armies swarm the cross,
Which world we land Nut only knows
We’re trees, and sparrows, hiding gods.
The garden’s wall so silent I pray.
That doves will fly and pierce this gate.