Dwight Stevers: Poetry

	Poetry
	Dwight Stevers

Tabernacle
- for Mark
There is only one of us now. The bodies melt. The kundalini wraps around our spine like the staff of Hermes. We see with one all-seeing eye the emptiness of God. Our love is a legend. We fly through the cosmos, a vast being of light – starry prototype of Homo Angelicus. We travel to a new octave expanding on frequencies of color and sound, beyond a human experience. We create a new song. We play the body as a sacred instrument, as a god playing in the fields of time. We are so fully present and we offer ourselves to each other for all eternity. Thus our life begins.

Tabernacle

- for Mark

There is only one of us now.
The bodies melt.
The kundalini wraps around our spine
like the staff of Hermes.
We see with one all-seeing eye
the emptiness of God.
Our love is a legend.
We fly through the cosmos,
a vast being of light –
starry prototype of Homo Angelicus.
We travel to a new octave
expanding on frequencies of color
and sound,
beyond a human experience.
We create a new song.
We play the body
as a sacred instrument,
as a god playing in the fields of time.
We are so fully present
and we offer ourselves to each other
for all eternity.
Thus our life begins.

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