Sweet, like Thich Nhat Hahn
taught me to care for my anger,
singing as I sew two skirts together
anticipating the Mayan priest
I went to see the wise woman
she told me about the mountains in Woodstock
I closed my eyes to the sun
and thought of Rabindranath Tagore again
upon completion of Hummingbird
my gift for the Undine, dancing her slow steps
In the storm where the dialogue took place
in medieval bell speak, sounding far
Her blue owl guide and protector
Conquered by the embroidered tree
that only appears in the rain
A reminder again, I am not I
As eyes, they do not mind
when it's time to die
Khymati is Chloe
We, as Janus, see both ways
The smile of the girl who ran down the street
and walked back, because she knew
I was thinking of her
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