The Seeker
A walnut cracks open into halves
by air or strength we do not know
but it’s happened: corpus
callosum.
And the child looks for her own
mother in a field of snow.
Far away, a woman’s body –
the size of a thumb.
Who will greet her when
the field returns to a lake?
Her own Self in the water’s motion –
an old dance of Sah and Hum.
The rose folds the bee
into her intoxicating flesh,
the bee now the bud’s
heartdrum.
Photo by Joanna Kosinska on Unsplash