From the Hymnal at the Bottom of The Hill

Followed lines lead to circles And circles all look the same. Just zoomed in — zoomed out.

Followed lines lead to circles
And circles all look the same.
Just zoomed in —
zoomed out.

So, instead
I swing a branch outside to
make music of isolation

you should have heard it.

Like a cathedral dome, the sound
choked the air and rubbed along infinity.

Like the space between translations,
god woke in the attempt.