incense smoke has a way
of permeating everything it touches
it becomes holy
not in the act of burning down
but rather
in the way it rises up from its own ashes
to spread across a sacred space
it is the layman’s holy water
which is to say
anyone can light a stick or cone
and set its blessings loose without the help
of a priest
or a good book
or a god
I keep the incense burning
especially when I need to remind myself
of my own godliness
that this body is temple
and these choices I make are worship
at this woman altar
my love has become the smoke
curling around everything I can reach
like my heart knows nothing
but the desire to make everyone and everything
holy
the act of burning [poem]
