I Asked for Yellow

We’re here; we come by stork, by shooting star,

All happens; required, to get this far.

But when did citrine-shined beaks deliver,

Hermes may not use the sun god’s quiver?

There’s night ‘twixt the legs of Pollux and Castor,

“A yellow meteor shower!” they asked for.

Heaven did decree that they should be twins,

Why shouldn’t one have yangs, the other yins?

And we are not imprinted flat on sky -

Not dots imbued with darkness of abyss.

The scales and lines can hardly apply,

Petals, sol, plexus: flow out or remiss.

I can become the glory-crowned prince,

At once a girl and haloed son since.