RED WORLD

From the dream of the body
I bring out a crow in hands
With eyes like a foal.
I stand in water.
The head is heavy,
It carries storms
From a gone haze
That shatters in dreams.
A spark in a moment of flight before storm.
Thunders keep vigil upon the hard world.
Still, the uncreated roots return to the clouds.
The dungeon beneath the echoing arch is heavily quiet.

There is no opening for fertility:
No river leads to the sea,
Even Noah is nowhere to make a wasteland.
Stubborn, Noah prays in a beggar’s anger
For the World to vanish.

Mountains from the same seed
Do not recognize each other,
But under water everything resounds alike:
The watery dead follow the same trail.
The wisdom of the dead, furious and pathless.