the moon counting its delicate birds

shapes the seed to what i wanted

fell until a cloud

come back to see the feeding of the bell

alters the dream in its dark blue cloth

then the cage breaks apart and flies away

drinks rain from blood in the trees

kneels in my hand after climbing up the rain

ferries the island to its blind stone heads

promised the nameless their own door

weeps sand into the shadow with opened eyes

wept a black vulture into the valley of bones 

melts into prayer across the skin of a thorn

waits with a touch in the corridor outside my dream

wakens the voice behind glass at the top of the sea

the color that comes back as windflower

the first sunrise will go on asking an older fire