I finally got honest to God.
I said, "Everybody's either
begging or selling something:
what's your angle?"
God said, "I'm begging
for your next breath.
And I'm offering a deal:
Give me back the sound of rain.
Give me the touch of golden fur.
Give me the tweet of the flycatcher,
the blue sky in the chalice
of a morning glory.
Give me the fragrance of compost
when April finally arrives
with her chorus of worms.
Give me the scent that drives
you maddest, the memory
of her hair, or the brackish sea wind
luring you back to the sandy shore.
Give me the way the stars appeared
when you climbed like a silver goat
into their jagged emptiness.
The payment I'm asking is
every sensation and its echo
in the grail cells of your body.
Let them be my flesh too.
Offer it all, then become
as hollow as an orchid's stem.
In return, I'll pour my breath
back into your heart,
a diamond stream of
uncreated stars.
Then you will know your Name."
Art by Elena Kotliarker
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