inverted motion

the Moon sits on my patio
playing a harp
song for the wolves to sleep
she feeds the curious deer
with multitudinous hands
revolving dew-cupped
for curious, tenacious tongues

she does
all of this
glowing radiant
and the beasts lay fast
and my third eye opens
as a blooming flower

and I
fall back visualizing a stairwell
which I climb
upside down
feet toward the ceiling

“what does it mean,
my self waking asks
is She
a womb, or a poison
am I
or descending?”

© Emerys Watchel, 2017 All rights reserved.


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