Market

Everyone seems to be
selling something
but nobody knows
what it is.
When you find out
you will give it away
for free.
How can you put
a price on the flame
that licks and kisses
across a synapse
in your brain?
How can you coin the oil
that anoints you,
the current of healing that
tumbles from the sun?
Jesus never sold
bread or pearls.
He just breathed them
into your hollow bones
and his whisper became
a tower of myrrh, a Magdala
glowing from your sacrum
through your rib cage
to your crown,
through your fontanelle
to the center of the Milky Way.
Down this golden column
spiraling angels fall  

into the fire
of your heart.
What is the fee for That?
Your whole Being.
Who has any business
charging anyone
for anything?
Just keep giving back
the breath of the Beloved.

Image: detail, Mary Magdalene by Caravaggio