in dawnÂ’s garden she paused
to consider the snake
in its ancient whisperings
like electric sacrament
on the tongues
of the desperate
in a future age
it was a crash course in
cosmic consciousness
but for this
adam branded
her a witch
as he set to sinning
with an offering burned into
the mind of a sick god
it is time for the resurrection
a female phoenix to fly from
the ashes of his poisonous altar—
there is yet time
for the blooming—
may she now birth
the best of children
pieces of the sun
so radiant washed and
dripping with the rainbow
a splashing of colors
on the kitchen table
while we dance
and laugh
and sing