perhaps, it was an angel appearing briefly in the low light to bear witness to this
rippling of fields in the hip. by this, i learn something about power— about the earth &
weariness of my heart; about faith & spiritual innocence playing before my shut eyes as
duty of the watchman & priest as if, there was a garden path of the spirit he was
drawing me in to hear the visions of the Lord about world powers & their weaknesses.
to prove i saw him, i stand in the spot where he appeared & broke, the music supplied
by brown toads & crickets under grass; my body feeling for an instant, an electric
charge in the air perhaps, his breathe heavy upon my head & draping me with a damp &
tingling garment of goose bumps & burdens; almost as if i should fall to the ground