I Am Earth and Water

I am earth and water, you will not pass me, will not ford me, my friend, my
friend

I am the well and the thirst, you will not cross me without danger, my friend,
my friend

Noon exists to burst above the sea, flaunted sun, melted word, you were so
bright, my friend, my friend

You will not leave me wiping the shadow on your face like a transient wind,
my friend, my friend

Sorrow and hope beneath my burning roof, knotted tightly, learn these
strange old couplings, my friend, my friend

You flee these omens and press the pure number against your open hands, my
friend, my friend,

You speak out and intelligibly loud, I don’t know what deaf echo trails behind
you, hear, hear my black veins singing in the night, my friend, my friend

I have no fixed name or face; waiting room and darkroom, track of dreams
and place of origin, my friend, my friend

Oh what a season of red leaves God has given me in which to lay you down,
my friend, my friend

A great black horse races over the riverbanks, I hear his hoofbeats beneath the
earth, his shoe strikes the source of my blood at the slender fetlock of death

Oh, what an autumn! Who then has taken me amidst the motion of subterranean
ferns, mixed with the odor of wet wood, my friend, my friend

Among the scrambled ages, births and deaths, all memories, colors shattered,
receive the shadowed setting of the earth, all night given and delivered into your
hands, my friend, my friend

It took only one morning for my face to flower, acknowledge your own great
darkness visited, all the enigma bound between your bright hands, my love.