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.