i sat out in the evening
deepening dusk illumined by candlelight
and star points
the dark skeletons of trees just
beginning to bud
rising awesomely strong before me
something flickered and darted
above the roof’s gentle peak
bats, or nighthawks, tiny stingrays
of the sky
as i strained to see through veiling cloud
i glimpsed the pinpricks of fire
shining through and wished you
were here to stand beside me
barefoot and silent in spring’s raucous solemnity
you concretely, who i can see
and bandy words with
you specifically who were never
taught you were alive
then you ephemerally
who might exist in hazy memory yet unmade
you in your peculiar beauty of uncertainty
who will learn the topography
of my veins and bones
it has quieted now, the night,
that mockingbirds even have tired
dogs talk occasionally in bass inquiry
but the undomesticated have self-muted
i wonder how He felt
in a garden, alone awake
alone understanding the deeper reality
of things kings and demons thought
in their pride they had wrought
was He afraid, there in the dark
with the night noises of His handiwork
preying on His humanity?
did His heart — His limitless heart —
skip beats as He gazed in the
face of Him who meted righteous wrath?
beyond the shame, did His eyes
grow bright as He pictured her waiting
shining and beautifully ransomed?
as His eyes rained down tears
was He weeping the horror of separation?
but then He accepted, silent
He who could have snuffed earth out
without notice
i don’t understand this
as i sit in the nightlight
peacefully writing and guarding
my candle companion from gales
the fact i can sit here
fearless is itself a wonder
wandering through history
to wonder of you
my hell He lived through
and died under
my mocking lies ringing
in ears that heard the
planets singing before
man had known pride
but stories don’t end unfinished
and here i sit
wind swishing through pinetips
red hair dully illuminated
by flickering flame
astonished that death is blood-soluble
and cannot remove life from Life
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