Evening Meditation

You have no choice.
When you breath in,
wings soar through your spine,
turning your path into a spiral
of melting stars.
Where were you going? Why?
A rare migrant flies through the open
door of this empty cathedral,
trapped for a while and
fluttering ecstatically against the rose
window in your chest.
No choice, no choice!
When you breathe out,
some gray veiled pearl of a lady's face
pulls on the ocean
in every cell of your body.
You can't tell whether you are still
or dancing.