Conversations with Original Mind
In 50 years, she answers, though not asked
She wears a white lab coat
that filters but doesn’t to hide her light
I know God has no gender, but I’m a woman
she says; her smile
melts the last few glaciers
We’d been speaking of ends and beginnings
even of civilizations
as arbitrary
She had much to say off topic but gripping
I’d shake myself like a bear climbing out of a stream
with a single trout in its mouth
I’d have to re-read but she remembers every reading
as now and always
A moment of sunlight seen does not reveal nor conceal
its long journey from the sun
a drop of rain does not conceal nor reveal
its long journeys through streams, rivers, seas
and through a thousand bodies
A gentle rain is falling
she leans her head back
to keep a raindrop landed on her nose
from moving on
she closes one eye to better taste its plenty
Leave a Reply