Walking the trail with Wong Ching Wah, Red Pine, Lo Ching, 
and Carole from Nonren Lake, we see a clear spot in the jungle 
canopy of leaves—a high point arch of heavy limbs, a lookout 
on the forest slope—

                A mother monkey sits and nurses.

                A couple perching side by side.

                A face peeks from another leaf screen, pink cheeks, 
                shining eyes.

                An old male, silver belly, furrowed face, 
                laid back in a crotch

                        harsh little off calls echo

                faces among the leaves, 
                        being ears and eyes of trees
                soft hands and haunches pressed on boughs and vines.

Then—wha!—she leaps out in the air
the baby dangling from her belly,

they float there,

—she fetches up along another limb—
                and settles in.

                Her, 
                arching like the Milky Way,
                mother of the heavens,
                        crossing realm to realm, 
                        full of stars,
                as we hang on beneath with all we have

                enjoy her flight.
                Drink her light.

                Rhesus macaque.