NOBODY KNOWS MY NAME ANYMORE

My wife always knew what happens next—

time to give birth, plant seeds, harvest crops,

and when to get ready for a final rest.

At parties, you will find me

in a corner where I sit and sigh.

I wonder why everyone is laughing

and having so much fun.

What am I missing?

Maybe I never learned

how to be happy?

Why am I not dancing with joy?

I creep everybody out

when I walk through walls.

Only a Russian wolfhound

barks at my presence.

I burn sweet grass to wash out

my eyes, ears, heart and body.

My solitude survives on sacred energy.

I must reconcile my divine inheritance

with my burning reality.