|
|
| When the sun went down and the night came on |
| coming over the fields and up the driveway |
| to the rose arbor and the backporch posts |
| |
| I gathered myself together from dispersing dark |
| and went up into the mountains |
| and sitting down on the round rock beyond the trees |
| |
| kindled my thoughts |
| blowing the coals of my day's bright conscious |
| and said |
| |
| all across the plains my voice going silently and down |
| among the stumps where the swamp cuts through |
| and in between among the villages of hill country |
| |
| Now close your eyes |
| Sleep |
| Shut out the world from the dark sweet freshening |
| of your quiet hearts |
| Lie loose in the deep waters |
| Do not be afraid to |
| give yourselves up to drowning in undefended rest |
| |
| If a dust storm blows up out of the west I will run |
| down the mountain and go through all the homes |
| and wake you up |
| |
| If a new fire appears in the sky I will let you know |
| in time |
| so you can know it should it claim you |
| |
| I will have all your beings in mind burning like a watchfire |
| and when the night has grown thin and weak |
| and the full coyotes have given up their calls |
| |
| I will move up close to the eternal and |
| saying nine praises |
| commend you to it and to the coming sun |
