At my niece’s / dance recital, the fact / that she plays / both Krishna / & Krishna’s lover—
Heavenly Father, I make of myself / an offering. My God—or demon, / / I don’t much care—let me call you / Lord and obey.
let’s esteem each other highly / in this moment: some who are steaming and serving / some refueling
Further on, hills with their wayward / rolling, and below, the white clover / pulls through the greening. / Momentary holy. Moist dirt.
At midday the light is the memory / of light—clipped grass, limbs of trees, your face, / all rinsed in a mild glow.
Heaped like spring fleeces, like gold / dragon-hoarded, the waters wait for her will, / they wait to be laid down, like wine without vintage.
Psaltery & Lyre 