We Know Capture Of The Infinite
We know capture
of the infinite,
a stone that defies
chance, bearing its emerald,
our breathing bodies,
unborn, then born in violet
from under the ground,
the swoop of orbits, planets
holding us to unborn
reaches, and what we know,
we fly through each other,
back home. We fly
into each earth that was made
before we felt the trees
that held us in their bodies
of flowing sun. How little
we have been allowed to see!
The bone stars throw down
their grief into plants,
and as we move, we let
the parts work freely.
So now this is! Dolphin!
Human! We are nowhere
where the grass is stronger
than the ocean swelling
through herds we begin as,
and we are thrown back
into graves of lightning
a tree shows on the back
of a winged beetle.
After months away from the coast,
I see rock lifting itself from the foothills,
I see whales diving down into the earth
of their ocean, into the light of their planet,
in the massive rock becoming their bodies.
This is a possible way, as are cactus gardens
whose spirits bring offerings found between us
in what we use, or in granite chips in the armor
of beetles, the wait of the owls, skies at dusk
hung between years of talking, in the accent,
or color of his hair when he speaks.
Tonight I stand near the waves, near their roar,
their coming into being, their starlight
that sounds like sitars, slowly veined
through what will ground the seeds of a task,
through the air of an approach a person makes,
thinking of what will happen not who we are,
where the bird flying through the movement
of a hand is part of what the hand does.
Radical nature serves, as an exponent.
It strengthens us, from inside the trunks
of willows and oaks. It glides up, behind
the sliding continents that speak in our words.