A gust of wind –
And my thoughts scatter,
A blowball sundered
By a child’s willful breath.
Seeds skitter on the water,
Catch the hem of clouds
And stray into mountain crevices
Where only the moon shines.

Earth give me your stones
Weighted with the irredeemable
Sorrow of the grey passing
Of years. I will hold them
And they will pull me down
On my knees on your soil
Warmed by the sun just
Before the monsoon rains.

Call me with all your voices,
Chirp of sunbirds summoning
Their young to the wide sky,
Tender song of grass growing
Echoes of my ancestors whose
Bones have fused with deep rock,
Whose roots spread far and deep
Into the centre of the world,
Whose love for me reaches
Across the wide centuries,
Bring together the pieces
Of my fragmented soul
So I may come home.


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