Rainbow Moon

14:

a purple thistle

sways in the heat

a tide of granite

inundates the valley

wheels and wheels of stone

encircle your musing body

a small fire

eats your dark thoughts

jingle of bells

cows and bulls

trespass your prayers

your smile

cracks the stern boulder

clouds open

there is radiance

in a mere glance

your hands

carry warm ashes

of dark thoughts

buried

with the gentleness

of slow gestures

everything about you glows,

eyes older than skin

exquisite, twigs

in the tiny

stone circle

speak a language

i dare not ask