i reach down with cupped hands
large as oak trees upside down, and
dip into the fountain
close my once hopeful eyes
and feel it wash over me
once more
i smooth my hair back
then dive!
submerge
swim
drink til it and i are one
i want to stand on a mountain top
hear the eagle cry
like this!
blaze through the forest
with will covered passion
as a machete
i want to long
and ache,
but with hope
and the strength of one renewed
there is a wind
blowing from the north,
there always must be
it is not a tidal wave
nor even the crystal
of a maddening brook
but it holds life
and to it i close my eyes
letting it wash me
and in it, an olive branch
too solemn for hands
which i take in my teeth
and fly with, like this!
offering it to you
and you, and you
that we all might live
