Second Life

And now it is time to be doing the work
You always said you’d do
The hard, dry graft of it
The fierce striving
Of being in that moment
And feeling alive
And knowing that this was its
Vital, ringing revelation
It has to be worked at, of course
Quiet periods with no distractions
Sometimes walking the night
Under a thin laser moon
Or pulling on threads
Until you forget even to breathe
It is your job to be ready
To capture some of that
To know how that feels
And to draw on its bounty
To just come through in the flow of it
To sing and to tell of its journey
Of how you had died
And had come back to life again
Sucked from the silent red clay
And lit with the essence
Of the Earth’s unbreakable turning
There are several truths to know
Now, you think
But the one you must
Always keep revealing
Flickers endlessly in a quiet part of you
Casting a cunning and savage kind of radiance


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