Anchored

The whistle in my nose
chirps along
with many sparrows
as I pant in
the crisp air

knees become a table
book spreads across
the drowsy doona

Settled in bliss I
ignore the booms in my
belly echoing out beyond
the patter that punctures

the crest of my house like
timeless Chinese therapy

Spray from heaven’s shallal sooths
after each flash of illumination
of mind-map and neighbourhood

When lightnings cease
my eyes droop

head totters temporarily
on its tower
as if about to
take orbit but it’s
saturn-chained

cannot wander far
anchor fused to my
heart like
a barnacle

that seed
christ-consciousness
gripping like squid
to feed this tree of
eternal life