I don’t care if I am possible.
What are the bridges between us?
Wind, the rainbow,
mist, still air.
We must learn to step on the rainbow.
(Even Old Jealousy
called it a covenant.)
We must learn how to walk on the wind.
What links us (O my sister soul)
is the abyss between us.
We must learn the fog path.
What parts us (O my brother flesh)
is our kinship of one house.
We must learn to trust thin air.
Always Coming Home