Carving a Poem

Carving a Poem

I rolled up some words
gently carved the eyes
raising the arched eyebrows
twitched those flat words
and the nose there..

From a deep navel,
I raised a deep voice
traversing lungs
and some melting words
labial, palatal
no retroflexes...

Carved eight mudras
those five elements
in the joints
of slender fingers
spread some green
from the dreams
for those nerves

Some genetic memories
I relieved myself
of the dancer's legs
and patted the calves
of my poem

It also took my
high arched soles
I polished the clay
of strong imageries
and placed those words
in a rhythm
of my toes and fingers

Look, how my poem
dances, carved in a
language.