DREAMING OF BABYLON

Written by: Miguel Mendoza

Hand of power, heart of whimsy, tamer of
mighty rivers. Rivers of initial learning,
nurturer of ancient gardens, gardens in

their fabled beauty hanging yet in utter
freshness in the fecund hearts of poets.
Poet at heart cooped solitary, hostage of

life's fickle fortune. Fortune dreamed
with vanished glories still as green as
tendrils twining. Twining on to memories

heart-held, held while tending patch of
foliage, muttering through graying mustache,
"You're soft muffins, crumbly cookies,

munchies in my white cell circle; circle
stony though surrounds me, I'm still palm tree,
brave, steadfast; that you're not, but bush."