Friday, January 30, 2009

The Gleaming Land

for my teacher, Julie Agoos

I’m walking to the gleaming land,

A place where monks and elephants

Gather to study wind.

I’ve filled my bag with bright things

So I can see before I get there.

I can only walk at night,

And shadows are replaced with sounds.

With eyes closed, my teachers

See me with their minds.

When I arrive, I will fathom the forests

The way a puddle does,

Reflecting swaying trees

And the tongues of wild dogs.

This is an older poem that appears in my book, The Comeback's Exoskeleton.

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