The Kingdom of God is Within You

Gates, squares, market stalls,
wildcat dumps, full burn barrels of regret.
Potters turning kickwheels with their crippled feet.
Lovers in doorways, transvestite prostitutes,
rain on the roofs, libraries. Dovecotes, wild doves,
chickens, roosters, peacocks
in ornamental gardens. Zoos. Lions.
Storehouses of grain, of spices, oils,
children's hopes. Schools. Occupying forces.
Bored soldiers with dice cups. Women with yokes
and water jars, women with the full weight
on curved shoulders. And above this a hill
of crosses, clattering tombs.

It's an ordinary
kingdom, from your gates of eye and ivory
to your heart's midden, your secret springs.
But one city touches another and the walls blink into saffron.
One city touches another and
both ring like trumpets. A king gives a beggar girl
a crown of rubies, peaches in heavy cream.

You are the king
and the beggar girl, the beehives
and the rain, the dice and the soldiers,
the well water, the feet and shoulders
of the poor. You are the guard
flinging open the gates,
the horse of the royal messenger that stamps
like the heart, and prances.