a poem

I am mute I have one brush And can make only Dancing marks On a wooden board Under handmade light Alone Within the earth In ecstatic prayer A boy is jumping to meet his Lord His golden hands Cupped in space Rising I have one brush dancing Ten thousand winged prayers Ascending I see Her and cannot speak She is the color of honey and earth Like tall grasses Golden She is made of light and movement And he looks away in reverence of Her Space The boy says, “Wonderment fills my heart… And all things are the Lord’s” He is crying now And leaping to meet his Lord Finger tips expanding into Heaven You are light And I cannot find Your source You are movement And I cannot find Your center I see Her as light And color Movement And warmth I form them in Her image Opening