You are good, not everybody, at picking dates to visit; at dropping visions
in my sleep. Under the sun, my fears listen to know if the coast is clear;
then change into living waters. It must have been a secret. I am thinking of
the wolf dwelling with the lamb; the leopard asleep with the kid & young
lion; & the little shepherd prophet who leads them by the heart. I touched
the miracle of what’s meat bud & word of knowledge: lost the body;
burned the soul. What’s to stop the night from being, a night of power &
new wine? Majestic speed into, the incense of dry places. The thing I
found remaining was a brand new day.