Simple Gifts
Lost ballon—colored blue—
searching for the infant hand it lost,
descends from heaven
upon the path tired soles walk
in the darkness of night.
A bell from a distant tower
dissolves into song,
after a clear moment
discovered between lines
of an ancient paragraph.
The voice of a lover
—abducted by old thoughts—
heard again for the first time,
naked words, dressed in white,
unchained, over water purified.
Simple gifts, ours for the asking,
freely given
by a philanthropic deity
unconcerned with the value
we affix to things.
Cubiyanqui 