7/11/2014: Full Moon

friend, rest now, let the earth grow
     thick around your weariness like tree roots
around a stubborn stone. all about you
     people are disappearing into long fields
that have no end into villages beneath the 
     sea into orbits and grass and soil and the dust
promised to us all by a mistranslated bible.
     sometimes it is too much to simply endure
to march on and on over the melting ice. 
     be still. lean into your weariness as if
you would dissolve and pass 
     through it rarified. rest your cheek upon its
axis feel the soft wobble of this earth we 
     grow up and old upon the conversations
the seasons whisper to each other
    the miracle of heartbeat metaphor and
muscle. inhale everything you have ever 
    wanted exhale and it is gone: a festival
of executions. say to each: not so fast
     show me now the crossed-crease where five
fingers meet in the starfish mudra holding
    but holding nothing show me the confluence
where all rivers roar into a singular sea  
    the inundation of everything nursed or crucified
where all arms and oars rest upon the water
     lightly as the first and last light of day.