I walk the rail hewn

I walk the rail hewn
From the timbers of my heart
Over hills and along wet valleys
Through fields of nettles and wheat.
Sorrow over grown with joy,
And joy buried beneath the miller’s stone.

I wish your course ran
Parallel with mine.
My arm around your shoulder
We would balance.

But your path has diverged
Along another boundary,
Or perhaps for you
There are no boundaries now.
And you float above, below, within.

If this is so, will you come for me?
Wrap my heart in the down beneath the feather
Steal me off this sorrowed rail.

Or are these wings, these powers
Meant for you alone?
You who held your breath
And kissed the face of God.

You who ascended the cold
Sinking in the canyons.
While I swayed atop
The splintered edge.

My hands reckless in their wanting.
And everything, everything
Bloody from the fall.

(For my son: Otto Charles - Aug. 22-30, 2008)