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In the morning
Before the night
Becomes the day
Before the darkness goes
And leaves the light
My father is at his best
He rises from the east
And kisses my mother to sleep
He makes a bed of reposes
Before the crescendo
Of bird song warms
Her skin
He wakes the children
With a song
From his own youth
A song his mother used to sing
To hymn
With his flock
He swarms the Cenizaro
In golden honey
Where spiders weaved
Bridges out of the night
Sunrise is brilliant over the ridge
Light is warm, sweet and yellow
Bringing colors to life
Against the gray actions
Of air and water
Blue, black was the dress
She wore last night
Making colorless the white
Diamonds of her eyes
For the dawn
So that he could
Bring it home
So that
He could see
Her devotion
So that
He could
See her
See her clearly
Clearly
He could
So that he would be
The only one to
Witness her brilliance
Her impossible brilliance
In the light of day
But, Oh!
How she did sparkle
In the darkest hours
He reveled in her prowess
The admiration she won
For him on the other side
Like the sun coaxes
Bud from seed
Blossom from bud
Fruitful life from
Earthly decay
The most beautiful things
Cannot be seen
Cannot be seen without will
Without
They will not be seen as they are
As they are
Will has disguised them
Disguised
For a time
Without until
Until will resides
But only for a time
For a time
the days
are longer than the nights
This is when my mother
Makes us into clay
And my father teaches us
To wash up our hands
To eat
To work
To embrace him
To practice our instruments
To take shape
In the world of experience
For a time
The darkness
Trades the space
This is when my father
Lays us down to rest
And lets our mother bathe us
This is when we learn
To suffer
To forget
To sleep
To renounce our existence
To fall
In
To the velvety sweet arms
Of our mother
To trust
That ground beneath us
So that
When they come together
For a time
In the evening
Before the day
Becomes the night
Before the darkness comes
And leaves the light
My mother rises from her bed
She kisses my father goodbye
Sets the table
Lights the candles
Shuts the lids of his eyes
With her mouth
Feels the heat of his labor
On her skin
And begins to call
The dream weavers
But not before he winks
Out from beneath
The sheets
Already pulled up to his chin
for one last kiss
and her ocean receives him
