I give the earth the phrases,
sounds, thoughts,
All broken off in pieces
That trail behind.
Do I expect to find my way,
To look back and have it all
Come together, or will I see
That I have led myself into darkness.
Listen -- each footstep
Cackles with the words
Of twigs and dry leaves.
Hold me, sister,
And tell me when we are almost there,
When everything behind us disappears,
When home is what we walk towards.
And these words are the sun,
Cracking through branches,
The forest dissolving
In light.