The air is cristo sulla croce
Sweet weeds
Sweet blood, sweat
Sweet grass cut back
Thorny wildflowers
January bloomers

A lost cat cries
Climb, climb for your life
Go on, rain from your eyes
Breathe in the tender sorrow
Of Spring

Never found a four leaf clover
Never saw a shooting star
My luck’s a silver heart
Swinging against my chest
My love, the cry of volcano cats

To spring from within you
To be carried by you
To be buried in you
To emerge to your light
To shade you from light
To stand alone
To stand with every other
To immovably love you
To sway because you
To drop leaves upon you
To stand ground above you
To grow roots within you
To reach up to you
To harden to your weather
To bear fruit to your hunger
To immovably trust you
To be slain by your axe
To be burned by your fire
To tumble in time
To return in decay to nothing