MADE TO RISE
Bodhisattva
Sleeping in trees
lay the patient and free
who wander the network
interlocked limbs
dancing in darkness to
cradle the bright above.
Who hold hands with others
who dream of false heavens
looking through eyes made from
very first stars.
Who walk so long to see
the courage of a guided sea
to welcome each fragment
for this sphere of blue blanket
folded infinitely.
Who mourn the butchered tree
and embrace the butcher.
Who touch the Earth, naked
and undulating as the grass
skin glowing green.
Those who chew fruits
and delicate clovers of the mountain
stride fearlessly
singing to the black night
a flaming instrument
moving rhythm
in dark waters.
Who welcome all,
and speak gracious syllables
holding hands.
Who listen carefully
to murmurs of the stream
and whistling through the valleys.
Who spread wide two wise arms
and smile in the masterful presence
of a blooming camas flower.