Pilgrim

Dear one, take off your shoes.
Come with me on a pilgrimage
into the back yard.
Your feet shall sting
with morning dew,
your body shall smolder
with the silence
of dissolving stars.
Let me show you how
there is no difference
between weeds and flowers
if you look closely,
no difference between
the least and the greatest
if you let things blossom
into themselves.
What is loam?
A profligate entanglement 
of generous corpses.
Your body is destined
for this grace.
The One who created
this boundless chaos
is near you.
The sun is always
fingering the dark root.
What is a friend?
This breath, a sparrow,
my glance, reminding you
how beautiful you are today.
Dear one, come with me.
Take off your shoes.


Photo: Wild flower patch in my back yard