At the Vulva Stone
janine canan
The birds loudly love
the Goddess' ancient temple.
So do the pink daisies crowding the grass.
The sun pokes his tired old nose
through the clouds
to see Her grand and intimate stones.
A young man building muscle
jogs past the crevice
where Her child crowns.
And one wild sparrow lands,
rocking onto Her lush green mound,
drunkenly dancing.
