Prayer Word

I have been a pear I have been
a chestnut I have been a worm.
Now here is my secret
prayer word, 'Enough.'
What the bee says to the honeysuckle,
a lover to the unveiled,
milkweed to wind.
What gleams through the cloud
of an infant's eye already asleep,
while her tiny lips
keep savoring the nipple.
The warrior's last exhalation,
smoke unfurling from a snuffed out flame,
the pungency of death,
incense returning from an Autumn garden
to the unborn sky.
I have been a pear I have been
a chestnut I have been a worm.
What the moon says in her
bridal gown of darkness,
'Enough. Now I will show you
my nakedness.'
Don't even say it.
Just breathe.
Don't even breathe.