In
the last, deep,
spellbound, weaving, weighty
night sleep,
through the
purple...convex
poem,
from light of spheres beyond those worlds, a free-from-earthly-body
glowing face
whispered to me, occurred to me, formed
in me
the
certainty:
Seven trillion...years...before my birth
I was
a sword lily.
My searching roots
sucked
themselves
around a star.
Out of
his vaulting
waters,
scarry like flower-leaves, dusty like golden arrow threads,
dreamblue,
grew,
soared, shoved,
grew steeper, parted, skewered,
burned out, streamed out, sprayed out
into
new,
flowing, waxing, waving,
brewing, bubbling,
circling
world rings,
most pregnant with secret, most majestic with secret,
most exalted with secret,
self-procreating, self-begetting, self-shadowing, self-
dividing
meteoric ball of flames,
cascades of comets, colored crown of planets,
extravagantly
showering about herself, benevolently blessing about herself,
wastefully
catapulting
about herself,
my
dark-metallic, halcyon-phallic, ringing crystallic
giantflower-sceptercrown!
Still
in my
heavy early-up sleep-shaking, in my becoming a person again, in my once again full waking,
her
power-proud joy,
her creator fired-up courage, her
confidence
laughed, glistened, jubilated
in crashing cascades!