Blue skies

‘No time to waste’, mumbled 

Samaya the serpent,

Mother of all there is

and ever will be,

rubbing her eyes

She took her 

Blue sky-bowl,

fluffed up some 

egg-white clouds

and threw a green

dishcloth over it

When along came 

a naughty man-child

clip-clopping on his

dirty hooves,

and knocked over

Her favourite 

Blue sky-bowl

Samaya grabbed

naughty man-child

by the scruff

of his mane

and tossed him 

Into the upended 

Blue sky-bowl

‘Stay in there for now,

Under my blue sky-bowl

And my egg-white clouds,

And go to sleep 

on my rough dishcloth

I’ve trimmed your mane

And clipped your hooves,

But worry not -

for I have scraped off 

all the dirt, and filled 

your soul with it

See how you like it

Trapped under my 

Blue sky-bowl 

Forever more’

Little did Samaya know

that this is all we need

Ugly men with grimy souls

stealing a glimpse 

of Eternal Grace

Under her blue sky-bowl