A prodigal depressed
his tunic stained
and torn by looming botheration
a loose string hangs from curled hairs
of his sweaty bulging stomach
Winded in a meander
he always stares
at the clouds for thirst
Misplaced in a maze
the burnt scent of
a migraine skull lingers
through a labyrinth
where he always scrapes his knees
when chanting
Prayers of the genetic codes
that tangle in the beads
and tango in the wind
These prayers, genesis of humanity’s ancestry,
vibrate in sound, they wrap around
the mysteries, tangle in beads
and tango in wind
He invokes a rosary of decades
holy mothers and fathers full of grace
they dance, tangling in beads
tangoing in wind
Wandering through corridors of knuckle
these beads absorb light in each prayer
until wind secures its Solomonic knot
to a golden palatial door
This is where his dream occurs to
unmask illusions
Oh dream, the gentle sleep
Oh how it prevails over clutches of fear
It triumphs over the abyss of nothingness
from which despair is cast
It reigns over primordial darkness
from which imaginations bloom
Until his sleep dreams and awakens
to a dream that imagines its myth of
becoming mighty brain of prodigal sun