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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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