How it dances, dissipates, a form,
wavelike, yet also little pieces,
the rain of gold on Danaë’s brow,
the scattered glitter of sun on sea,
the burst of invisible breath from the body
when the ghost is given up. We’ll travel,
beam-like, waltzing through walls,
shimmering back to the stars, lighter
than air. In another world we’ll dance
on leaves, nourish trees. We’ll split
into rainbows and paint the skies,
dazzle observant eyes. Reflecting
from flowers, we’re brilliant colors:
yellow, red, pink, purple, orange, magenta,
wavelengths, sinuous curves,
frequencies, from petal to brain
and back again. How we’ll dance,
dissipate, both current and particle,
the golden chariot’s noontime gleam.

About the poet: As well as being a poet, Kaija Berleman is a collage artist and native Seattleite. Her poems have appeared in Tin Wreath, and Fine Madness magazines, and also in March Hares: The Best Poems from Fine Madness, 1982-2002. She holds a BA with Distinction in English from the University of Washington.