Our mistakes crack open. Each leaf
veined distinctly,
and we star-made music makers
are finger printed as well.
This is expansion: to stand as One with all.
The mountains a dense
explosion of trees.
Night comes to us sexy,
whispers to us about belief in light.
Words tumble from us. Honesty, a naked
falling.
We linger in the source of gardens.
For two hundred thousand years,
we have been deaf.
We forget meaning, our storylines
repeat the rhythm of our breaking.