until the pulse of words
o’er comes and detonates

until sunday-after-the-rain
and jujagalaboo
dance for you in the tall grasses

until your day’s most moment
is feathered by a winging of birds

until from tree to sky is
washed from mountain to rock

ah,   and far beyond until
you breathe   the circular breath
of earth   and death
he will wait for you

watching the river for your return