from a Camera

                                                             Every click is a yes                                                                 where we shed

the limits of ourselves
like caterpillar skins.

Wings appear
on our shoulders

for this brief time
this walk through magic

under the sun
captured by the wet

green of leaves
the grace of herons

the laughter in a face.
We are hunter, mendicant

and saint with the grail
in our hands

in this moment
in the quivering space

between All that we taste
but cannot capture.

Our albums are
the footprints of our prayers.

                                                                                                                         by n.m.rai