This, the first day of the rest of our lives

and as I swatted at the fly
it was as if sliced through spacetime
breaking it into a kaleidoscope of many
I usually do not like to kill things
but this death brought more
and the more was good.

And so our story begins

I closed my eyes
it was as though illuminated from within
darkness did not fall as usual
with the falling of my lids
but rather light
and the more I looked
I began to see
my own eye looking back at me
and it blinked
and looked around
seeing me from within
seeing everything at all.

A myriad of bug bites
had appeared overnight
itching up a storm
like mystical pinpoints of union with the divine
infecting me with an awakened fury
recalling a time, that as a child
I had that fever
and that fleeting glimpse

The song, it played for me,
and I for it.

Oh the muse
from whence does she go
to where does she come

All of our knowing
is built on a foundation
of indigeneity -
no matter how far we have strayed

it’s there
at the root
our core churning
out the truth
ineffable though it is
it calls to us on the wind…

The Queen, She is reborn.