See the path between
shattered crevice and sheer cliff,
winding, bright and blinding
as the watching sun
in its burnished sky.
Hold anger, heavy as an anchor
iced and jagged in your cradling palm
abrading your arid fingers
mouth parched to silence,
till you learn to listen for whispers
the distant rumble that drums the sky,
flowing, flooding, milky and golden
down the sprouting mountainside
Filling upraised palms
in watery weight, that escapes
between crevice and crack
a sinking mirror
the silvers back
I am here
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