And thus, as sleeping giants, we orbit our lives
resting and entwined, casting echoes onward –
calling home all ships, lost to us through storms.
It takes a lifetime to turn one’s head toward the light
and in that light to see all life, as light itself
not brightness, nor warmth
but source of self that quickens thee.
oh hastily we wish to trade all life, for such light
to be done and divine at last
to be absent from blood and bone
and heavy distance between hearts.
It is indeed measured so
in weight, and waiting
in orbit around ourselves
this moment here
and on and on.
In kindness yet we come to know
of what great material this here is made
this us stood wanting
how lost, how lost my ever soul
and here we are seen
we are whole in vision
By no other method may we live this life
by no other means might we hold and be held
other than in kindness
and each in hand we come to know
the face of giants
of pulsing stars
that will us into being.
This is the only time I will come here,
It is a curious place
With no purpose
Save the purpose itself
The being of it, to this, from that;
all onwards, all evers
all ways round
All light, for all time