by Roger Fritz, 1-8-02
You are more wonderful than sixteen camels
on a caravan to Samarkand,
carrying silkworms and mulberry leaves.
You are more wonderful than a line of wombats
dancing in their annual celebration
of the descent of the clown-gods.
You are more wonderful than a hawk feather
sailing through the windy sky
I am more wonderful than a buckskin shirt,
with fringe, faded to white,
that was once used by ghost dancers.
I am more wonderful than the dreams of horses
and the long stories they tell
to pass the winter nights.
I am more wonderful than the northern lights
curling over the winter tundra,
ribbons wrapping the present of the earth.
We are more wonderful than the desert
lying open and naked in the moonlight,
We are more wonderful than a supernova,
gathering time in large amounts and
exploding in glee.
We are more wonderful than the moon,
sailing just above the wavetops,
and the waves reaching up to touch us
with their soft hands.
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