Desert Invocation

On the precipice
of the apocalypse,
the brink
of imperial collapse,
an inner compass
reasserts itself,
the North Star leads us
into wilderness
where the Milky Way
is unobscured
by the yellow glare
of city lights,
where the air traffic
is far more rarified,
at much higher altitude,
and sometimes,
it is whispered,
not altogether Earthly.

We need no candles
in this impossibly bright moonlight;
it is shining inside enough
for both of us.

A lunar candelabra sparkles
on the grapes we eat;
we sleep naked
in the same cot,
satiated with beauty and vastness.

There are still angels
in this place the same
as when ancient Americans
tried to paint their dancing forms
against these sacred stones.

It will take awhile
for them to trust us,
but they will come;
they never left.

Be still
and see how this
naturally present timeless awareness
contains everything
and remains empty
everywhere and forever luminous,
knowing and free.

When we leave the doors open
and call for them,
they come.