Spring gave birth to the horror of sight in us all
and I never believed until now that I could and would live to see myself
so utterly shorn of slick shells
forced to face the real me
all walls come tumbling down for all to see hear touch
even pollen can burn flesh so raw and new
I journeyed to the core of the sun to understand
why we must continue to plow and sow even as we trample our own gardens
I did not know that I myself was a seed to be sown and reaped
and like all seeds the hard shell must swell and burst
so that I would shed blood and tears as I rose from the moist black earth
all walls come tumbling down as Yeshua and Chango in a tipsy brass duet
hold court with Oya
and I see Her funnel clouds reach down and bore into my chest.
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