Kali Yuga
To Linda Johnsen
janine canan
Through the hills of Her great burnt body
went my path, past creatures
penned and killed by men.
The night was brightly lit.
The roadside offered little shelter.
In the roaring cities no one was home,
and no child felt a mother's hand.
Into Her viney oaken hills I drove
ever deeper seeking love.
But the roads were concrete --
freeways zoomed with steel cages.
Harder and harder my heart pounded
until finally it broke.
You're not here! I cried.
I am everywhere, She answered.
In the clinging panicked oak,
the blooming prickly pear,
the hot red rose, rippling sweet scent,
the electric wire, listening stiffly.
I am in every light that flickers
on these glittery golden hills.
And I am in your yearning heart
that is opening into a temple.
So nestle deep into my moisty cave
where time never comes,
high up under my boundless heart.
There you will see the changing stars,
and I will bear you again and again.
