On These Sacred Grounds

What is the soul,
but to soar into the air
and vanish
into the space
between stars.

What is the heart,
but to long
for a True Love,
till it’s drumming
to this world
as its beloved.

And what of these lungs,
that cling
to this land-breathing.

This body knows of a Love,
burrowing beneath cactus skin.

The land of Truth
is a land of tears.

Here,
soul
is losing feet.
Soaring,
arms vanish
into air.

Where am I?
Goo of becoming,
dizzying cocoon.

Deep into the night,
I turn into a fish,
welling with lyrics of water,
suspended,
floating,
dreaming warmth
of land touching.

These uncertain grounds.
This mysterious becoming.
This walking without feet.