(raise)

I raise my voice
in the open dome,
turn about
to play it
(like a flute,)
through its
man apertures.
I have seen
photos
of the light
streaming
flying thorugh
like formless
birds
coming to roost.
The body loves
to be in a circle,
the hogan
the igloo, the dome
all true.
I read somewhere
if you spend your
time inside
your mind thinks
in boxes.
Outside it is
free to roam.

In the dome
it grows
When it comes
into the circular
space
it grows quiet
and feels safe
to come home.

4/3/00