Of Survival

Of Survival

Whatever happens

however we both survive the heat

of the coming wave

in the dying light

alone or apart from home

in the aching night

which is still

a source of tragic friction

however we go on to live no matter

after the summer sun

and rain began

and the walks grew long

in the afternoon

and the laughs were frequent

however far

we fall and roll away

whenever the winter finds you

broken or down

wherever field-fares haunt

your windows

of a freezing dawn

when the sight of sages leaves you

momentarily lost

or torn

in the isolate mist of the day

you can turn to the road

to the bridge nearby

you can run

like the sharp wind herself

you can fly like the kite

you can call for

safety

you can stop and start over

you can stall

and you can spring free

you are allowed

to see in the dizzying cloud

austere faces

of angels

to drift like a pair of mute swans

on a quiet stream

and you can stay

like the calming impression

the moon at midnight makes

against the restless

ocean

you can take to the bed and the cave

whatever happens