The spirit, my spirit
Likes to dress in poems
I don’t know ten languages
I don’t know how to rhyme
I only care for the cadence
Of sunrise, of airy matter
Of dreams of lime and appetites
Mystical, metaphors for
The future of mind, the home
Where I reside is an art form
A sadhana of process
A pure light of beauty that burns
Silver to gold to shaded sun
In the blue infinity of my inner world
The spirit, my spirit
Likes it very much
Why don’t you come and float
Awhile? Since we are creators
Entering matter with spiritual intent
Keeping the holiness of the body
Like a star, warm and life-affirming.
Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Peacock-03-478274993
Wuji Seshat 
Excellent poem about poets!
wow;
Entering matter with spiritual intent
Keeping the holiness of the body
Like a star, warm and life-affirming.
the spirit risks entering matter as a brave soldier going to war – yes