a vision as I stare into the western sky
clouds looming up like a great wall
impenetrable marking the boundary between
the land—what must be
and
the sea—what is possible

the horizon looks so close I can touch it
as if the end of the world were so nigh
the thousands and thousands of miles of windswept waves
I dream incomprehending of those distant shores

the waves crash together and tear at the sand
and the thousand-fold endless war between earth and sea rages
and bit by bit the water that is rain that is tears that is blood
that we lay dreaming in within our mothers’ wombs
in millenia unceasing
what must be always crumbles but what is possible is all but infinite

I dream of those islands lying untended upon the horizon like Fata Morgana
like the sirens’ song drawing sailors to their doom
and the arc of land and the mountains in the distance
and like I bird I soar upon that twisted span
that stark concrete line that vivisects the sky

in my heart is hope
not of impossibilities
not of dreaming of what can never be mine
not of love unrequited
not of the inevitable plummeting through the sky
as death takes all things that take wing

in my heart burns hope
that my little flame is brightness enough
to lead me through the secret paths in the wilderness
these twisted, braiding paths made of flashing light and silken cloud
not the clouds of darkness, the brooding black storm
but the light clouds of rain ended
the storm weathered
Noah’s Ark alighting upon land
clouds illumined by the rising sun
turning the sky brilliant gold
like honey, like amber
like warmth incarnate

These paths like ribbons burst from my heart
these endless lines leading hither and thither
not knowing where each colored braid might end
they tug and they pull
With courage she armed me
I can set my sight upon that silver string
that penetrates my very soul
upon this silver string
lies my path across the infinite waves
alone as needs be