The beauty of the World
unclothes herself in the waters of a river.
Admire her rippling surface,
the depth of her turning body,
the way the crystal scales of her fishes turn
and catch a bit of sunlight—
and then the moment goes.
Beauty, she is there along the stones.
She covers their damp surfaces with emerald foam.
Fix your gaze
to see her moss, how the stardust of the land
emulates the form of the ancestors shimmering above.
She is everywhere,
within spirals-within-spirals
of repeating patterns,
yet she is a singular awe.
This is her shimmering beauty,
the loving face, shining through the World
as it is cradled in her infinite night.
Listen
as a choir of crickets offers
their prayers.
