HANGING MAN in the LAND of NOD

We are plants in our time of sleep
Inhabiting a vegetive state:
Spared both Animality and Humanity
It is then that we suffer our organic fate.

Deeply sensile
But fast asleep
Wherein gravitation reverses:
Our heads become our feet.

Skull full fathoms deep
While in the Land of Nod
Feet forward, our upended bodies
Are pulled ever closer to their God.

Hanging Man upside down
Trapped in the gravity of this mortal coil
His feet ever reaching toward
Heaven’s fertile soil…

Fully willing to sprout
Quite ready to flower
Finally planted
Under heaven’s high bower.