Built from great constellations and long forgotten rivers
I give you my restless poems without regret.
Yes it’s true that I’ve been on the move lately
and have little time to talk.
What can I say
but that from this day forward,
I can only promise you vague dreams
and curious facts.
Yes, I keep moving, thats understood,
but please tell me something,
from which ocean did you arrive,
was it during summer?
or after a winters storm?                                                                                                                      Was the moon out that night?
My restless longing needs to know these things.
My thirst grows toward oblivion;
I need to feel the ocean move towards the shore.
I need to watch the stars so none go missing.
I need to keep learning about roses
and things until I know absolutely nothing at all. Really it’s true,
and it’s not my fault that I live without a compass
and that my love grows wildly in no particular direction.
Will you excuse me now, as I put distance
between you, me and this poem.