Becoming

Once people said I was a Deva

to a world of plants.

They said I would take this flower

of my green volition

and inseminate the world!

So I must offer

soon

a resolution made of green

in multiple tones of song.

I must weave cantatas of bull-rushes

bent in wind—

strains of catkins

grass-head seeds and sky

to wrap this dying world

and me—in soul-heat–

infuse us with a solar passion so intense

we are in symphonic presence

of becoming.