Walk with me in my desert

barefoot in this morning dew

A swirling slot passage in the canyon,

carved in layered hues

of orange, yellow, and red —

clear bright rays of light shining down

from an opening to the sky.

You lie on this sheet on cool sand

with your head on my arm.

For the trip —

The butterfly’s flutter

exposes vertical strands

of tiny shells holding our oceans

in the beam

with the loom in its beak

the hummingbird threads

our messages through each shell

revealing the weave —

coherence in cactus flowers.

The serpent plucks this fabric

birthing time, pulsating nāda.

Soft reverberations flow in the canyon —

dust from the butterfly’s wings

and the hummingbird’s feathers

glitter, rising in the beam.

With every pluck the weave tightens,

infusing jasmine

through orange and tangerine ocelli

bringing the mural into focus.

You slipstream the echoing nāda

back in time

through vertical rock walls in my desert,

and smile, eyes closed

with a reverent hmmm.

Your fizzy hair releases 

crackling sparks in my eyelids, 

waking you.

A fart-filled red balloon

floats in your wake

as you meander the dream

through the beam

with the morning breeze.

Walk with me barefoot

in this morning dew.