pray now before dawn comes, i said, and you did.
a garden gnome stood by you.
the night sky was abiding, having worked its own dust.
a slow low cloud train rolled over and on,
and several faces admired you, all wrapped in one.
a rush of wind through the trees
nearly masked the rustling bushes over by the rabbit lair.
my vertigo returned and i at last found the stars.
you spit and just about cleared your knees.
i could feel your heart beating in my throat.
i smeared the dew along the back of my neck.
you touched your forehead to the freshly sown row
then lifted up and genuflected before the tomato wire
and stood beside my fallen body.
we formed an upside down T
and the dirt on your fingertips came between
the immaculate conception of your predawn dreams
and the words you then floated aloud,
i am heaven, here and now.