Kokopelli slices through my dream

A twisted and hunched bedfellow

Beckoning me to follow

His flute down to the rivers green.

I am frozen, drifting lifeless

Bobbing in the stream

Fold, fall back, retreat –

Thoughts too many to glean

An octogonal mandala of sand

With music at its seam

Threads together past lives

And the sadness of new beginnings.

Avoiding the cornice and the spine,

Away from the crash

I won’t drive down

This fated path

I aim for the road

in between the fold.

Or should I follow Kokopelli’s sway

back to canyon de Chelly?

03.08.2021