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.