A shadow lashes temple bells to my arms,
laces ceremonial slippers on my feet
like a new-born corpse.
Amber light from a street lamp slides through
shuttered windows, circling like the
vapor trails of a dying sun
skimming along razor edges sharpened
against the whetstone of brain cells
14 billion years in the making.
Something shimmering hovers above,
a small seed gently carried within
its comforting heart.
Forms seen only in dim reflections transform
to reveal the longed-for home where
all endings begin again.
The earth-borne cadence of a shaman drum
washes over with music birthed
by Apollo in the big bang.
Clocks stop their chronic keeping.
Yesterday and tomorrow
empty their bowls
into the womb of eternal now
where fear cannot go and
shadow is no more.