On coming second into the Breath Garden
(with apologies to John Keats)
Enter with joy The Gates of Paradise,
this web divan of shape poems from a friend --
a roadmap to the Self at century's end --
songs of crazy kindness, pearls beyond price.
Read deep for insight, love, or real advice
on how to find, feed, free, and still defend
your mind's own heart -- a living star suspend-
ed in a frightened dark where light melts ice.
Inspired by a brilliant Golden Gate
to share my childlike wonderment and mirth
in this old sonnet form, like Vikram Seth;
behind a shimmer of tears I write, and wait,
and thank David Daniels for my own Self-birth --
who shows me how to die before my death.
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