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ISABELLA RODRIGUEZ
Suppose there is a city in the Buddha's lap
and his knees are the mountains singing.
Suppose feathers rejoice when they fall
from an eagle's wing, spinning and dancing.
Suppose nature is a map leading to willow trees
where spirits roam, speaking in old voices.
Suppose you can climb rocks like a billy goat
with clanking hooves and horns that curl for battle.
Suppose a path of dandelions and buttercups
takes you back to the mountain,
where you call out, "I'm home."
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