A Grower's Prayer

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i sever you into twenty pieces
off of your sacred spiral seat you go
your paper gasping as I work
my breath whispering to your pungency

i cradle you in my hand, a hundred of you
i stare, humbled before your magic
no gnosis can rationalize your life force
yet we all prophesize your journey

i collect you from my feathered ally
my hand dances to feel your weight
turning you over to see your stark creamy perfection
holding a sphinx my clumsy grasp

and then comes my favorite part
committing you to the worms, and things that no longer are
all senses noting your perfection, and you too joining the dead
i smile, knowing your resurrection is imminent

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