i had climbed to the top of the hill

when i heard my name called from below

from the time of our youth

and she stood beside me

and i knew we would marry

and i

i somehow

knew i

would be the one to bear her child

 

wind flows

over the edge of august

beneath the sea

inside a chrysalis

wind undresses the animal me

every blossom bearing a tree

 

the eldest son suffered most

became a crowd of lives unknown

the birth of light returned to stone

 

stonefall

the weight of the path

rains down upon us

may one drown in water

drawn from a sacred well

 

life is a long why home

 

when i find you will you no longer have speech

            one who is yet to come

there's a cry saddled waiting

            suspended between two heavens

there's a passage of scripture

            which has never arrived

are we held in true darkness by dark forces

            who extinguish every stain of light

 

lying abed on a cemetery morning

depths are silent

but not formless

earth reaches up touches my hand

i dissolve

 

today dawn was in the bed of being someone else

borrow me a different life she said

i chose a small boy paper walls and strong wind

 

thunder from elsewhere

twilight swallows a few thick drops

to myself i listen and hear nothing

great blue wings rise fly flow away

unhurried lake

clouds startled awake

 

if stones were not alive

i could not converse with silence

my shadow would rest

 

snow has no fear of dying

no ear to hear

the voice of god

impossible to rule

gardens succumb

forests kneel

white horses

cast no shadow

 

the forest built a church

upon the shadow of an earlier temple

without setting a stone

without sacrificing a tree

with veins of pure water

cold as the corpse of passion

 

it happened

in pine silence

far away

above the water

a white bird

never identified

to whom i somehow

belong

still there

 

two afternoons and three times

the osprey circles the lake and dives

i hold the cold dead weight of the bass in my hand

open mouth eye unmoving

ripe flesh

reason for living

 

work the sky slowly

breathe the gospel of water

permit the son to outgrow his father

 

lock the other horizon away :: sew me to the moment

 

should one sleep where leaves of grass don't thrive

or accept peace in the absence of light

how long can the desert in a cactus survive

 

by the work of forgotten hands

there's a roof upheld overhead

there's sustaining spirit in a certain simple bread

they shape my life who are only partially mine

 

in every room we will never see

there is another message about life

rugs float with prayers in afternoon quiet

sleepers gazing with joy into each other's eyes