Everything I touch melts into pools of molten glass
which I try to stain into cathedral windows.

But colors vaporize, smear themselves
across the kitchen floor, so I
won’t be making any portraits of saints,
won’t be blessing the virgin with a crown of stars,
no tongue of fire, no dove of grace
for my porticoes.

This blue lightning flares
from my fingertips, makes sudden
leaps at whoever’s nearby.

It needs someone who can take the shock,
who can stand up afterwards and sing.

This voltage coiled in my palms is a song.

In my fingers an electric web crackles
with the cadence of some lost music.
The sudden bursts spit off blossoms –

see the sparks rain down like a shower of petals?

This beauty is only for the brave
and is best appreciated in the dark.

Have you ever seen a lucid twilight
shocked into ghostly day? Or the moon
caught in a net of electric arcs?

Then come with me. Please.
My little hands, they can fill up the whole sky.

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I Unify in order to Know
Attracting Healing
I seal the Store of Accomplishment
With the Magnetic tone of Purpose
I am guided by my own power doubled