Myth of Cold-Colored Flowers

 

 

 

So I walked into

Heaven blue in my garden

A parade of humming birds

 

That lifted me into the furthest morning

Up and upwards, like shooting water

Into the pearly-aquamarine sky

 

I was the water bearer in a whizz-of-fire

I was the ether-spray of foam

Sachitananda and scarlet-throated

 

So I walked into

A park of gifted dolphins

Who taught my again green and ruby

 

Prayers, which dared to caress me

From the loose thunder, pulling me over

Into the realm of trumpet vines

 

Scattered like music in a sequence of soul-states

So I walked into

The sun-blood realm of Mayan-dreams.