When the stubborn god
came after me with his gifts
My fear encouraged him
So He ran faster
through the wet grass, as always,
praising me. I see the
capture in praise; despite the sound of his piano,
I pray to the father in the sea
to save me. When
the god arrived, I had disappeared,
changed forever into a tree. Reader,
Pity Apollo: by the water,
I escaped him, I called
my invisible father - because
I grew stiff in the arms of that god,
for his omnipresent love
My father did not
No expression emerges from the water.
Messenger
You just have to wait and they will find you.
The geese flew low across the marsh,
glistening in the black water.
They will find you.
And deer
They are so beautiful
It is as if their bodies do not hinder them.
Slowly they drifted out into the open
Through the slender auburn photos of the sun.
Why are they willing to stand so quietly
If they are not waiting?
Almost motionless, until their cages rot,
The shrubs tremble in the wind,
Bowden without leaves.
You just have to let it happen:
Let the cry go, let go like the moon
Twisting out of the earth and rising
The circle that fills its arrows
Until they come before you
Like dead things burdened with flesh,
and you are above them, wounded But superior.