Eva Mandala

Eva Luz Bonta, b. March 1996

How curious
the thin stem of your larynx
resounding vigorously & true to every vibration

the crispness of your cauliflower lungs
that only yesterday lay nestled beneath
an arbor of maternal ribs

the brightness of your chicory blossom eyes
newly opened by the side of the road
where all the world’s refugees
six billion strong
are raising dust

the unknown mushroom of your brain
its natal ties to rocks & roots & burrows
developing (who knows how) such powers
to perplex enchant entrance
or stun in rare berserker rage

the branchings of your complex foliage
the whole forest trembles in your fingertips
reaching for the moon’s resplendent breast
grasping at the sun’s immanent nipple
with the kind of serene hunger that moves mountains
and makes the stoniest hearts spout fountains of praise


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