To Some Far Water's Edge

I have traveled all directions

to arrive at the edge of your village

its battlements rising in black slate

its orange roofs clustered like a tiled choir

above the smoky blue valley

an attic chorus that chants

my every wayward step

as I descend the green mountain path

to the house that holds the emblem

of our union locked fast in the keep

When I walk toward you now it is always light

the fields arrayed in wildflowers purple

yellow and red they thrive for a moment only

to wither and fade and return always return

with the errant wind at my back and I realize

I have not gained as much ground as before I left you

next to the pitted stone wall I climb

the ridge and survey the western horizon

where we once joined bodies and minds

one intent one will one way forward

This valley bleeds into the river that curls

like a sea monster out of the ancient deep

what lurks beneath the surface rears up

and rockets through the waves to devour

all in its path here the river’s bend cradles

the fringe of the forest that shrouds my way

I move beyond the ancestors’ camp making

an inheritance for the life that springs up

through the fire of our touch I turn into the wind

bearing the ashes of the past to some far water’s edge