The Amethyst
Deep in the heart
Of the dark purple mountain
The seed of a life waits
And grows.
Shimmering moonlight bathes all
In its circling bands of
Washing pulse-light.
Off to the side are the Angels
The guardians
Immersed in a lavender prayer -
While asleep in the womb of the
Holy mauve mountains
Takes form the soft life blood
Of morn.
Silver the light-rings inside to
Pené-trate -
Light through the solid-loosed
Breathing earth -
And deep in the night of the
Bright purple moonlight
The amethyst waits
To be born into earth.
