The Hoosier Poems
The womb of the storm churned, ruptured -- a blade
of lightning cut the past; in seeds of seconds
that spawned my form and my new man limbs.
I shuttered before the rush, impelled by the brooding storm.
I raced a meadow exposed to nature's knife
that quivered at my heart, thrusting me forward
to dance upon its silver edge, and magic
seared my dance and knife and birth to song.
Fire and water, earth and air are one
as spirit melts clay to the flesh of Adam,
as this day and then conceive my first seeing.
On the light that severs earth and sky, on the coil
that marries death and love, I shimmer steel
racing promises toward darkness conceiving.