We exist beyond aching,
weak at the end
as a free hawk
drops into gravity,
resolving the hunter’s shot.
Faith travels no further
than hope in the search
for life in crabs that fall
from the relative branch:
than hope in the search
for life in crabs that fall
from the relative branch:
strength turns lonely
when rowan roots withdraw
from the mountain.
from the mountain.
Where is the absolute pulse
in a lamb’s death in winter folds,
through the heart that beats
for what stays whole beyond
the slicing burn in summer?
in a lamb’s death in winter folds,
through the heart that beats
for what stays whole beyond
the slicing burn in summer?
The night turns here:
the moon plays lucid.
I map uncertain stars,
count revolutions and rulers
while the world spins,
tips under my feet.
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