Sundial

Here,

In the slant of first morning light

Mangoes taste like honey and

The kind of sex Gods had

Before man named its master.

Birds sing with abandon

And a quiet grace

They know what it

Is to be born.

And when the rain falls

Giving breath

To leaves

That have known the time of the sun,

Before the clock

Domesticated it.

There is a stillness

We must learn anew

To remember.