The Singularity

 

The night the trees and I gathered

our leaves we shook

in the same directions,

night noises joining our wishes

of sharing neverending universes

and passages to the ending of our own,

the earth moving on without us

in bell curves of motion,

cycles of cycles streaming

around and over us endlessly,

drying of roots and stems,

brittleness under the grass

overcoming our leavings,

the pinpoint sum of our shadows

evaporating into eternity craving

more light, more and more light,

one more doorway at the edges

of deviations of days and nights

and spirits beyond fire and cold

over which the only control

was none of none but to sway

together and let go