Green shoots through branches, baking in sun.
I grasp green with my lips, my heart.
There’s a vine in here, wanting sun!
Green, tight with veins and stems,
fiery, fluid, reaching.
From my lips, a vine, and with it words.
I remember our kinship. We are one!
My mouth holds vines, brilliant tendrils.
If I’m still long enough, they will shoot out from me!
From my toes, roots, cool earth pulling them along.
From my fingers, tendrils
straining for sun. More brilliance!
A long July day of brilliance, heat,
a green burning, making nutriment,
chlorophyll, melanin, colors reaching,
reaching to paint life in air,
and then singing!
The green and red blood become singing,
the sun’s song, the cool brown earth’s song,
the burning red-green light of creation,
the healing song, green, burning.
July 13, 1995