Every cell of the body opens and closes
swells and shrinks to the cycle of the moon
while the muscles arch and sing to a different cycle
every fruit and morsel of rice fed by the sun.
And all the cycles in between- the river running dry
for fifteen years, the earth knotted in stubbornness
loops of suffering, the cycle of mourning, the womb
stretched and inelastic filled with the husk of grief.
My Garden 