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