A fortnight passed in the polyhedron of light.
The land partners are slowly pulling apart.
These phrases trace the edges of waves
That go deeper into humanity and the trees
Than words can ever follow, so forgive us
If our outline seems pathetically sketchy.
There were buildings and gardens by the creek
In the woods overlooking the lake where we
Stayed as fortunate guests of the partners.
But then again, the revolution was always
In the phrases (“back to the land”) and only
Touched upon behaviors (a lot of gardening,
Yes, but also the usual human squabbling).
It never inhered in the deep abyss of waves
That are all the actions and buildings, the land
Itself, the planet figured by the phrases of those
Who wanted to love her as a sacred mother.
“Sacred mother” is a powerful phrase, but what
Does it mean that meaning and power have to do
With phrases? Generosity let us stay here,
But even “generosity” is a light like those seen
Through these tall, uncurtained windows at night.
It was never the stars that exerted the faint pull
On our lives, but our phrases and stories
About stars, our sidereal goals such as generosity
And loving the land like Earth was a nurturing
Super human. The land partnership is falling
Apart. The faith and the hope lie in our words.
The fault lies in our hearts. Nothing lies in the stars.
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