Do more than fall, and wait to wake in darkness,
Waiting for the empty horizon of your faith to appear—-
It is your mirror, as you know: an illusion. Look
Down. See the dandelion in the crack in the asphalt.
It is the force of destruction, manifesting
Corrosion in bright, many-petaled yellow blooms,
A delicate mane of petals; like the spider’s web
It will become, taking the pavement and making
It a seed on the wind. This is what you’re dying for—-
So excellent a journey, such fruition in the weeds.
Comments