The serpent’s breath 

Traces spiritual maps

Unfolding its wings

Taking form of a peacock’s ocelli —

Iridescent green, burgundy and indigo

Shifting light in scintillations  

Edges in a fine fringe, tassels blending 

Into the realm.

Where the plucks of the guitar

Bring raindrops of tesserae 

Carrying communion in strings

With the essence of jasmine

Splattering gently on those memories

Reflecting the serpent’s wings 

In the cool drops

Settled in landscapes 

Woven of light and sound. 

The tune soothes 

The weight of loneliness

Quenches longing

Lulling dreams 

Where the mind tunes

To every frequency

Of the tessellating weave.

A sweet echoing voice, mellowing  

Rippling the drops on the mosaic 

Into a dance

Of reverberations through 

Shimmering diaphragms 

Of ocelli

On the threshold of awake and sleep.