If the form of the bread is not the form of the bread,

then it is the form.

If the body of the sheep is not the body of the sheep,

then it is the body.

If the taste of wild berries is not the taste of wild berries,

then it is the taste.

I speak to the earth sometimes and she replies; in silence, she replies always.

I do not know her language, but sometimes I listen.

If the touch of a woman is not the touch of a woman,

then it is the touch.

If the embrace of a child is not the embrace of a child,

then it is the embrace.

If the light that shines at day is not the light that shines at day,

then it is the light.

Dreaming a dream within a dream under a half-formed sleep

and in this dream I hold the scent of every cosmos, stroking

tenderly each living, dying thing—because I mind.

If the blood that stains the land is not the blood that stains the land,

then it is the blood.

If the voice speaking from the fire is not the voice speaking from the fire,

then it is the voice.

If the dance that moves the sky is not the dance that moves the sky,

then it is the dance.

Our hills have fallen over a mountain of un-memory.

Every now and then I see the sun of understanding, but

soon my sense will fade behind clouds of impermeability.

If the song of childhood is not the song of childhood,

then it is the song.

If the rain falling in the fall is not the rain falling in the fall,

then it is the rain.

If the smile you wear at times is not the smile you wear at times,

then it is the smile.

Sweating work without hope for appreciation:

some still deem such a life admirable,

yet we are bred and wielded as cattle for troth.

If the heavy wake is not the heavy wake,

then it is the wake.

If the vagrant king is not the vagrant king,

then he is the king.

If the milk once drunk is not the milk once drunk,

then it is the milk.

Wild ruminations of old plague my hours;

now not a day is left to be seized fully.

I breathe in moment, and I breathe out time.

If the word in the book is not the word in the book,

then it is the word.

If the trail paved by the grass is not the trail paved by the grass,

then it is the trail.

If the music we hear asleep is not the music we hear asleep,

then it is the music.

Waiting for the first kingdom to arise out of the bare nails of the land—

will flesh and fear also capsize when the ground is up and the air is sand?

If in the beginning was, then how, I ask, did the void speak

to the Lord, begging to be rinsed apart?

If in my end I won’t be, then how, I ask, could I ever pray

for betterment, if betterment has been my whole task?

(From Poems. 2016-2018)