I will touch stone

I will touch stone and turn north this old beautiful cage,

through springtime and wheat fields,

towards wandering remedy.

I will cut log to small tinder when the season demands,

for the falling good woman

to warm her pointed hands.

I will touch stone and lever days alone along rivers

against the subtle stroke of finger on eyebrow,

the history of bed clothes,

the private silence of war.

I will touch stone and know

a quiet landscape of things that need mending,

a mouth as true as mine,

an area beneath body where religion clings and

know a faith as slow as rock.

I will touch stone and shake a new moon

when it becomes melody to walk within your circle

I will sweep old words into piles

and spread them around our yard

burn them.

breathe the smoke of history we shared.

I will admire the smell of your skin

you will hammer soft love above my bending face.

and together we're trinkets

and god is talking with simple words of

faith as slow as rock.

I will touch stone and bow low to be certain in love,

to be walking in love.

to know love’s stoneness,

know the uncivilized song of repentence wailing blue

in a night of lost coin and smoke.

the bush of beautiful thorn,

the promise of faith as slow as rock.

I will touch stone,

turn north

and know.