our ground is shaking,
stunning us out of sleep,
I go room by
room tracing my ruin: how did this make you
feel?
Well, your grandmother and I
used to talk before we went to sleep.
Sometimes for an hour.
She was as beautiful as Earth once. And, Earth was beautiful once –
before they pointed to their crosses and proved that even a goddess
could be crucified and every last snake could be driven away.
I wouldn’t look where I was going -
close my eyes, flood, savor the flow.
The stream erased the canyon
and someone erased the stream.
I notice myself breathing in
I’ve waited so long for this harvest and
am reminded of the power in waiting
I notice myself breathing out