from a region of the heart

from the eternal night inside god

from a man who never walked this earth

grew a tree without arms over the grave of the sun

 

spring leaves. painted a small red.

almost lost in slightly taller sounds.

through cracks in the ceiling

i hear footsteps of moss on the roof.

 

out of death life

is a secondary art

flickering beneath the stars

blue as the eyes of ice

certain it shall be lost

 

blue. where mountains end.

where hearts soften. and silvered winds

flow in.

 

wind over earth.

book of our names.

the living the dead the unfinished.