109

Let the Earth Not Break

Bend the nights, the days, to a footed rainbow

and heal the earth with wholeness,

lifting salt sea spume high on mountain pines,

hardening their sap to mast my tall ship sailing

on groundswell waves westward, westward.

Let the earth not break with joy

nor the hot porcelain stars shatter

in shards of flame down the domed night

nor the inhuman sun lap too large through my burning hair,

while I at the ship’s prow joining

the four-chambered seasons of earth,

the three-chambered grointings of sky

shall not shore the swelling waves

nor unsoul the battered stars.