Joy hereandnow in the shape of a dream.
I am a child again.
I see my milky longings like body music,
inexpressible delight.
In the crystal silence tiny heavens
tilt into blue.
The child picks up a crayon
draws a colorful future.
On a rooftop, under a forever sky
he climbs a tower where a princess sleeps.
Holy is the place
where her desire lies.
Weaving strands of Milky Way into a net
of stars he lowers her into his tabernacle of words.
In the blissful night
Here is the magic and deep devotion
that has not a shore.
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