Solar Storm

It is difficult for God
to let there be light
without your eyes.
Glory is YOUR work.
Now get busy burning
yourself to ashes.
Didn't you know?
Each photon of this flesh
is the whole sun,
and on a dendrite's tip
in your cortex
a proton's dark core
condenses the death
of a thousand galaxies
into diamond wonder.
It is not enough
to illuminate your mind
with knowledge.
Your body must dance,
a wickless flame,
jump off cliffs
into the void,
drown with frogs
in an emerald
forest pool,
tangled in the fetid delight
of mud-sprung
water lilies.
You need to starve
for forty nights,
then get drunk
on a buttercup.
Life is too furious
for the merely enlightened.
A wild one needs
nakedness and victory,
a storm to ride
back into her
heart-beaten stillness.