Pieces of robin’s shell
in soft palms
Cradled
the child does not wonder if
they can be put back together
She collects
and examines and absorbs
and smiling reaches out to place
the blue in the woman’s hands
then dances away in search of other treasures
knowing that she IS – Always –
swimming in surprise and the woman
Closes
her eyes pressing palms together
Crumbling
the pressure of her prayers turning to powder
the pieces of blue
powder turning to paste as heart surf breaks pouring
Changing
and the ocean and sky answer reflecting . . .
“We are Always but never the same”
and she
Cups
painting with the blue paste
the woman’s burning temple
finger-painting the
Center
of her brow
bowing she whispers . . .
“I am always new.”
Then opens her real-eyes to
– Always – who reaches from behind her mind with
one tiny tender violet and
Carefully
Places the purple smiling in her soul ~
Dr. Karla-la