There are five holy places in the body:
the heart, the spirit, the secret, the mysterious,
and the deeply hidden.
These are the ones with the power
of gentling the human.
And the human is clouds,
lung, mist, and heart,
a pulse at the wrist,
and the spirit
which belongs to the mountain,
and since it’s said we come
from the east
where first life might pass
over a lake one day
or drift toward the ocean like the wind
it came from,
or follow a slant of snow,
and then there may be one of these,
a place
where the spirit sets down.
It’s said, too, that we come from the wind,
born from it, yet we are given flesh
and bone, the milk teeth which fall
when a child passes through.
current and tide,
yet merely
a woman of light,
a man of fire,
the bare skin so vulnerable,
fragrant and leaf-blessed as we are.
Here she comes, walking.
Here he is, as if
undressed from the body,
as if the abyss were beautiful
and nothing there could hold you down.
This is the time when the spirit has no need for teeth
and in the time it takes pollen to light
the wild world tames us.
Oh, it is so soft and full, the human now,
and suddenly you are in the clearing.
To the east is the mountain
with sweet, sweet rain.