Seeing and Healing

You offer a drop of yourself
as if bitter medicine for swallowing.
Gazers pondering galaxies of galaxies
Are not sick, just awestruck.
We sometimes wonder about you.
Truly, once one learns the word “bird”
They never see a bird again.
It is folly to name the stars,
record size, color and coordinates
as birdwatchers do sightings in Spring.
May a flock of unnamed flying spirits
spiral around your awesome core,
remove the blinders from your eyes,
and unstop your sweet healing pour.

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