Sacred rider on silver moon beam
with a message on abundance–
how her shimmer-streaks are lingering
behind each stranded cell.

And I’m making choices,

Corroborating with each block
that’s building up eternity
and shudders off the temporal.
We’re taking hands and she,
the spreading beams from fingers,
is illuminating each vertebrate
that shares the world’s backbone–
infected though with scoliosis,
the twist-turn consequence of choice.
Still within the festered marrow
is new life awaiting brimming.
And so this lady who has come
to show us her own ways,
(ways our own, till now unknown)
is firing up this world with light.
And we the image-beareers, the
scandal of the cross now scarred
shake off the vestige of this world
and disease that twisted its true form.
The lady Love is beckoning
each of us with joy
Her fire is God and water is spirit,
her anointing: word that shakes, confounds:
“Lift up fabric universal.
Reveal a healed and straightened spine.”