Ancilla

Draped in pure pale innocence
and transfixed by a flower

With a fire at her feet
the angel beholds
an offering
in plain view

The girl can not know
the meaning but is bound
to accept it

You know her fear
in the way of her feet
will yet become resolve
as she is to become
a woman

Desert plants

Feeble attempts at awakening
eyelids try to lift and give up

Futile weeping trembling and gasping
behind the fragile blind that fits with
membrane precision no measure
knew its original encodings
lasting to this day

Is an architect required
to lock this precision into nature?

Fallen behind
the story are the lives of others
dragged about like objects over centuries of dust

We are not of their kind
but we distribute the food from this end of the table
but somehow it never reaches their end

The fools that take more than their share
they taste justice preserved in metal
they taste the issue of their bodies as lessons in hayat
they live according to the research of criminals

The liquids they imbibe are bled by binding an ancient tree with cord
The liquids fuel their hatred
The swords quell judgment
Eliminate rights of the thinking others

The blind man is the man who does not look
the man without eyes may see where the blind man
pushes aside the ideas others give free

After-all
The blind man and the blind woman
have children who see

Before they awaken, they can see this, a vision of paradise
here in their own gardens