A Temple by the River

My body is a temple by the river, a crypt of flesh turned to stone

A gate wide open, a safeguard to the heavens

Trodden, sheltering heart

A granary: all husk, all animal feed

A shallow urn overflowing

With bile and honey, embalming pride

Green and glowing, marrow and wine

With penitent, flaming hearts

Over the fields sowed with salt

My flowing body drinks from the marshes and the solace of song

And the grazing animals feed on the roots below the mud in my banks

My flowing body between the reeds that drone the chanters of men

And my body is not enough, my body is not enough

My body by the temple is a river, a house of red clay and straw