I thought the earth remembered me,
she took me back so tenderly,
arranging her dark skirts, her pockets full of lichens and seeds.
I slept as never before, a stone on the riverbed,
nothing between me and the white fire of stars
but my thoughts,
and they floated light as moths,
among the branches of the perfect trees.
All night
I heard the small kingdom breathing around me,
the insects, and the birds who do their work in the darkness.
All night
I rose and fell, as if in water
grappling
with a luminous doom.
By morning,
I had vanished at least
a dozen times
into something better.
No comments:
Post a Comment