2016 12 03
Moonlight on the river that flows nowhere
preserves the secret sorrow I forgot.
I cut pieces of light from my dark soul
and give them to people hungrier than me.
I become apples and wind when I die.
We walk together on the river shore,
holding hands with memory and desire.
I peel away regret to expose fruit
that drips forgiveness from our kissing lips.
I become flowers and light when I die.
Flocks of birds that nest in trees near our home
bear stories of our lives to distant lands.
I watch them play in drama of their lives
and they watch me, but our eyes never meet.
I become rivers and dirt when I die.
I give my name away to all I meet,
and receive their names I hang on my tree.
I write the names of every person killed
on beach sand so ocean waves claim their souls.
I become mountains and birds when I die.
I tell her she is the Muse of my songs,
and then she sits mute for ten thousand years.
She never speaks but I hear her sweet voice
from every creature who dreams the weird world.
I become lions and oaks when I die.
I gather fruit and herbs from the waste land
and plant them within walls of paradise.
My love becomes the fountain that flows free
when I search for her, bearing honeycombs.
I become honey and bees when I die.
I walk the highway past fast-zooming cars
and explain to them the names of all stars.
She leads me away to the mountain grove
and teaches me the secret of rebirth.
I become children and rain when I die.
I hide in the cave when flashing bombs fall
and watch without tears when rich towers burn.
Though the king destroys everything we built
we will rebuild it all when he is dead.
I become mirrors and eyes when I die.