We awoke once
on a red dawn solstice
Lavender light
& walked naked
to edge of your
roof garden
as sun’s rays became
another’s midnight
& in a whirl
I saw us descendants
of a beginning incessant motion,
inhabitants on a small sphere
whose turning
lends music
from universe & spring
a little off key &
on the docket
recipients of circles
set in motion, then
figments to one another, now
figures to our heirs &
I didn’t know how
to tell you
before you left for India that
pantheism
is a clever lie.