Jesus rattles breath like dead leaves, shaken in the fever wind, shaken with the stain, rattles like dead leaves on the tree of pain. Jesus breathes, rattles, leaves death, shaken in the fever wind, loam taken with the stain, rattles death, hangs on tight, the tree of pain. Come lie down in my waters and dream and breathe my thunder to come clean and to come out of hiding. Merge with the dream that pours you into this very sea, back to the womb of this great mother, back to the beat of your beginning. So are above this fear of pain and transmuted in the sun-warmed body of earth, this sacred fire that is all we have spared from the threats of this nightmare. Come you with the vibration of one, come and lie down in my waters, love. Your conference, I plead your mencees, round the leaden's circle of doubt. I send her heaven in Christ's good name. Full moon sun, take me up, wings like needles, nails searching, promise the mend. Jesus the thread, your arms the radiant radii, your suffering face, in that garden of time's trusted thrust, where you save the children, womb and stare madness into sanity, infinite death summoning. Your grace, the geometry of true love, kingdom come into this woman, come unto me undone, holy, I bleed this rhythm in your name only.