Land of Soul

There where my soul resides
male voices sing
the songs of men and women,
beauty seen
and grief held up like flowers.

Towers shine,
one each for sun and moon,
where stair steps climb
the pathways of decision.
Paths hang in air.

A man is there.
His name is John the Baptist.
He is all hair
that's sometimes mixed with ash.
He sits a chair
and ruminates on space.

And there's a pool,
the rule of which is silence,
in which are fish.
The scales and fins are golden.
I have no wish
to pull such fishes in.

A woman, too, is there
with hair that's red
but could at night be brown.
Her sacred limbs
are thin and there is down
like silk upon her skin.