A curved heel,

A poised back,

Faces from paintings on the old walls,

Walking the land from before your time,

In a life lived, not performed.

Pillars that sigh against skin

Grass that falls under feet

Gold that touches only them

Open flowers in a closed fist

Open green over sheen and shine.

Fall in and step out, of hard soil and broken grass

To a quiet inch, Split the air with laughter,

Earth angels that guard their home.

THAMBURATTI.