Mystic Air

Let earth speak of such kindness; where songbirds deliver

ink, and meerkats draw portraits of poetry; for this art so

vexed a soul, inflicting gentle sorrow. And how long we

chanced a dice, upside-down to trek a moon. Forever is

more than vice: breaking down, a wretched pain, searching

a wounded love. Open a portal, and tug upon infinity, ever

to near a sphinxly core; for spirit tingles, and fever burns,

a torrent of volts and fire. She’s a mystic mirror, mother of

bobcats, and father of kangaroos. I see her in flamingoes,

and male jungle cats, ever to feed from palm—a hyena.

What is such mischief, but faith and flame—a finch’s

wings. With mud and clay—veins and blood, and ever we

grind, knee to chin. Such is fox to mind, alert for cheetahs,

trailing through a Savannah, eyes filled with mystic air.