What the spirit can conceive The psyche will believe A life, All its own Mystery of birth From the land of What Nots Into arms of Can Be One transmigratory link chain of becoming A beginning Take yourself down to the sea Lay your head in the sand The tide will come Pale circle of desire Glazed celestial countenance Ponder unfathomable depths Draw the tides of men’s desire Sickled crescent seed, Implant waves, rays, engendering Woman-like silences in the Dark red canals of the womb A life, All its own
