From Before the Sparrow

From before the sparrow harmless
Holds the initiate is tested

Pulled back buffeted

By heedless words

Shoved and punted beaten

Back and yet he

Flutters

Forth he

Allows what is

To be

He sails along lifted

Up by situation currents

Of air by children

Calling voices middle of the night

Uneasy telegram wind

Bears away the hours

He grieves the

Gentle approaching

Parting dry

Rainless stubble

Summer days

The stream is

Dying barely full enough to

Filter past the drifting

Turning of the

Year and yet he

Falters

Forth he knows enough to

Sing his evening song

And glide across the

Parchment drafted

Wind and

Allow it.

Water

Water welds the blackened heart

Under the words in which the concentrated

Weaver lies, flows about the berries

And the distal clouds continued round

The swiftly sailing songs about the

Wheat field ceased among the

Fragrant false and fettered seeking

Always the lowest ground; drifts

And dallies bitter cross the rocks and stones

To bear the dross away, water sifts the

Fetching thoughts anointed or ofttimes

Disappointed weeps leaking from the

Corner of an eye disjointed seeks

The deepest chasms of a frown;

Down it goes, all ways down and yet

It ferries all the life we lived beneath

Contented mudded dispatched whorls of

Sound; forging steady unrelented

Progress foregoing proximal obstacles away

Across around, always onward ahead and

Foreward, always towards the deepest oceans

Salted depths receiving always

Down.