"don't use your words,
Breathe into the wind
and let the trees be in you.
Feel how the rock is as hollow
as a heart,
How it hums
your spirit song.
"There is one desert, here,
in this moment,
In that distance is only pride,
regret, sorrow --
The white beyond the red's but
another foreign perspective,
Those things you say
you want to leave behind."
"The crackle in the branches
is the buzzing in your ears,
The tree is merely a sphere,
the grass formed into spirals,
And water spills down the wash
from alternate frontiers,
A different red-brick schoolhouse,
different planks of juniper
"Existing not in other times,
further distances,
But in the book -- already written --
you are reading,
In the clean lines of the wilderness,
the wound of the trail.
Feel the pull from either side,
build the cairn."
