Dark Wood
In the middle part of the year
I came upon a dark wood.
My mother had packed me a lunch.
She opened her mouth
And gave to me bread & meat.
I had stopped for the meal
And my bones had knit themselves
Fiercely together.
I existed with clarity.
And as a mountain stream descends
With jubilant purity
I tumbled downward willfully
Like a drop of water
Reflecting the whole world.
At the foot of the mountain
I came to a dark wood.
No comments:
Post a Comment