Will this pass?
frozen bird in the earth,
you flew from your entrapment and circled,
returned, never by yourself but always alone,
roots of wisdom upturned and sowed,
a whispering on the tongue,
a story passed down, a longing
for something that has since passed:
little bird, what of this?
some say that there is an endless moment
when life is defined by a single touch
I've never felt it, though it molded me
in my dreams, I float and never fly.
endlessness of the earth,
I curled sweet cursive against
the breath of your love,
I tried to be the bird but I was always grounded,
earth-bound, tilled, aerated, irrigated
Wait!
Once, I made it to your ends
and tried to bring your edges up,
carve script into you but I could not catch you,
you were always that way to me.
Wait! Wait!
How could I know
that I loved a thing that flew:
catch the next wind, wing higher
take a part of me to that lighter
place, where the thinnest air
is a viscous movement
against my skin, angel or ghost
or nothing at all.
