I was trying to repair the world
with words, to fill the gaps with syllables
of every vowel, to illumine her
with verbiage deftly elaborated.
I am trying to remind the world
of her that understands it, trying to show
the form beneath the manifest faces,
the Moon and not just the finger pointing.
Somewhere in this expressive verse is hid
the fragrance of the incommensurate
mother that gives being to everything.
Somewhere in the poetry is a salve
that solves my self, and I can only hope
that it reveals a little for an other.
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