Root Cap

neigh-bor

in the way the future is our past
what we have remembered is surrendered in a glance
but in the way where others are why
is what we have surrendered, memorialized?

a prolonged cry

the ward of god

in embryo is a coming together
yet what is untoward in the distance covered
is the danger of appetite love has discovered

the spirit of dirt

for the sleepless beneath us
aroused as larvae to love like flies
surrender is the hunger of dream & the soul
a hole not yet ravished

all the instars

Worship

the floodplain is a homecoming
away is the ocean
& what is not yet, the pouring out of a mountain

who holds the yet of a deathless bearing
if in away, yet is the bringing rain
they will celebrate

an ancestor

The Wind

scattered seed will wake the dead
unmarked & fast asleep—buried everywhere
the living look

for what is death but this—
a mark we make upon the dark
like a new born root that arouses
the spot

a tree in Bethany

recapitulation

the away that is longed for by those that carry what the future holds is the void they will die for because the wind is the “why” when we proclaim the need to bury is why the wild is full of what the future carries

otherwise nothing is ravished & all is breathless—there is no seed absent the awayness & without wind we render nothing!

the gods

Covered

the dark stuff of thought the dead take care to wake the wild with, makes us, who most rely upon the sun to shine, take up desire—for what is a seed if not the need to bury in sleep so that in dream we who live may, well, think?

a ravished flower

to die for

if the dark is what the dead stuff with thought
than to wake from a sleep in which a dream is to think
how can the alive not?