Step with me in my desert
barefoot in this morning dew
where distant glowing dust swirls,
murmuration,
searching for the symbol,
finding none —

Where the fine threads
stretch the weave
painted in sunlight, glass, and black lead
with knots of violet bellflowers
in a dervish twirl
around the oval space
in the window, the altar.

Where with every step
the aperture twists the loom,
inviting you
to anchor into the flowers
and step into the hollows.

Mugdha —

In an ebb, the murmuration settles,
reverberating its own depth.

The ring of the church brass bell
dissolves the bellflowers
diffuses the grid
into the morning desert breeze
and the window remains —

Walk with me in my desert
barefoot in this morning dew.