Weep with me, porous heart.
Weep with me, you, the permeable.
You spirit-scoured,
You crystal in the bedrock
bared by the rushing
Of moon suckling seas.

Call down indigo night and
Star eaten grandmother blanket
To drape over us thatch huts
Trembling beneath the comet.

Cry with my hand in yours,
Mated wolf alone in winter,
Hot breath clutched beneath roots
With no other heartbeat, just one
No other heartbeat, just one to
Ache howl pip ruby light
into the egg of time.


A poet told me
It was thought for a while
The beavers were going extinct.

They disappeared.
Denning millions gone to fugitive rumors,
Gnaw sign, and maybe nuisance
To someone’s cultivars, somewhere.

Yet they had only died to the day,
Shedding millions of years of biorhythms
In a generation.

They became
Night, nocturne, furtive holy architects,
Concealed clan of slick pelt
Diamond tooth river kin
Stream seam bend mending
For slowness, for slowness,
From twilight to dawn.

Somehow beaver stepped
into the underworld
For at least a hundred years,
Until our skinning knives lay idle,
And then beaver
stepped out again.


Sometimes a homeless mouse
Takes up a dry wattle elbow
In the time pocket hearth
Of a beaver den in winter.

Original hospitality,
Lichen on antler,
Lets the mouse
Dream in ease,
Wind and snow.


When virus diminished
For a single geologic breath
The mandated incessant
Of highway and air conditioner,
Seismologists registered
A never known in my lifetime
Dampening of the empire hum
Perceivable for miles underground.

What happens to me
If I let myself admit
How much I want
This hum to stop?

What happens is:
The world turns to stone
And one day it melts again.

And the meltwater is
tears and smile
In the same quaking body
And in the water is a den.

In that den,
The rarest qualities
Will bed down
Beside you.

Your candle
Will be the comfort
Of ridealong

When the music changes
They begin to pip
and draw world into the egg
And spill into the world.


If you wake one day
With the terrible memory
That you left Silence alone
On the trail somewhere
And the night has fallen
And the trail is for thieves
And you can’t remember where
And even then, you can’t, you can’t –

Be. In your ache, become.
Be Silence.

In the quake
of blaring musts
Be still. Be refuge.

If you’ve forgotten how,
Cry with hopelessness.

Your every tear
Scoops a hollow.

there is a door to the hollow
To the daylight
and all those waiting guests.

Beyond all reason
It opens
And god and her mouse
Move in.


I am ark for you
I am den for you
Every single beat
Of my blood
Is a sheepskin rug
Here to hold,
Hold your dreams.

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