Annus mirabilis

In this lifetime, not the next,
I want to hear the wind speak

a poetry strong enough to bring
all things together that were apart,

a language powerful enough to move stone
gargoyles and brass angels to tears,

to bring a few more dreams
to the dead who’ve lain so patiently

with only the rain or grief
for entertainment. Let us have

no enemies then: let us flash the white
flower of a smile between us, absolve

each other’s debts before the bridge:
fragile, improbably lovely, that

necklace of steps strung
over the abyss.


In response to Via Negativa: Skeptic.

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