with reflections dancing in her eyes,
a child watched from the temple rooftop of the dawning
& the fires in the distance manes were streaming,
oh those graceful long-necked stars of snowy colour
that raced each other fiery hooved;
through the radiance of morning,
& through the roar of the fire, the heat & noise
she spoke a name as quiet as the chiming of a bell
& from her mouth came the taste ice & silver,
draughts from the pure deep water
in the bower of a sacred, petalled well,
& there in the curving river of the sky
& there where doves are prisoners in a golden dome of day,
she breathed clouds of rose & myrrh
that climbed sweetly ever upwards
to the smoke & flower cradle where she lay,
& the sun spoke music;
rang the sacred, fragrant woods with song,
& the moon who strummed on chords of light
shone on the swaying pines who danced;
to this duet made of sunshine & of purple night
