| Deepest Lost Awake in a sleepworld, an Eden of spirit flesh, a southeast coast of darkest, clearest night I sit in stillness beneath an ancient oak with pearls in the moss dangling like little lights I count them with reverence, one for each gift you bring to me, and I die alive as the strangest tears escape me in pairs the duality of moments- here, there now, then light, dark night, day oh, how I ache, how the firewater rushes from my veins, flooding every pathway I have ever known, rolling across every footprint, casting them to longest miles of deepest lost, of an umbra, so enamored the leaves speak in tongues, and I know my name in every language, but I don�t know how to wear it anymore for it is only a name, yet it is my signature and I�m no longer choosing how it is written It is happening before my eyes, inside me, as an African storm and all I can do is cling to your voice within the darkness where my book falls open for your watermark �DM~2004 |