you've use that old cane you found for another purpose: you whittle the hand rest to look like a branch: with a discarded knife: you carve patterns into the rod: running your fingers over the carvings: they feel like ancient meaning: you place that fragment of shell: on an ornate string: attaching it to the hand rest: so it will dangle and hang: catch the breeze and spiral: a dowsing medallion: a cursor: to what?
you show up with pockets full of water: but what everyone notices is your large ears: someone whispers donkey: and gets the reply you mean like in Midsummer's Night Dream?: so what if you are different: you resent people jumping to conclusions…
Because your water is discovered by clouds
rising into the rapt blue abyss of sky,
now your body is love, on the rise, a mist.
If anyone asks: did you ever love? Say that
a moth was born from leaves and landed
on your tongue, like fingers plucking the harp strings.
And though it was not pronounced
you knew that an angelic form had come
with dusty wings.