I once watched a man set himself on fire

I once watched a man set himself on fire. The tire swing ballad of salty waters. The train tracks rattling. The canyon echoed like the warriors of rain. Children running in silence. Charcoal feet.

I am the spider web. I am the falling leaf and his blazing fire. I am the flesh burnt beneath ammo; I am leather. I am haunted by staggering speechless runners armed with feathers and arrows. I am nothing but breath. I am death ropes and train tracks.

And hopeless, the canyon moans in flocks of ravens and rainbows trickle down ancient waterfalls collecting dust and dusty shadows. Omnipotence. I will be there a hundred times over in search lights and helicopters; I will be the sinking ships.

Barefoot. Refuge. Smokestacks and offerings.

Naked and burning he fell from the cliffs. Naked and burning we tumble down with his avalanche. Smashed railway gathering. Wolves dancing around skeletons. Wolves in the water, to drink, to sink; I am only a thinking thing that weeps. To know magnitude and holiness, to hear the keys ring at your waist.

Child I Long For

Child I long for:

May you be born near water,

its secrets and music a thing of your childhood.

May you be raised through windy sound and starry nights,

the passion of melody in your blood and tears.

May you have compassion for the earth,

and all the earth peoples,

before placing judgement.

May you be free to dance and sing,

to run and find treasures under rocks,

discovering solace in your skin and thoughts.

May you lose your sense of self,

as I have lost mine so many times,

but may the confusion lead you, line-less, on a journey

closer to the truth of your essence.

May you find a love so painful,

you never quite heal,

for your heart is to steal

as the wave is to crash

and you may never forget the feel of sunshine

when that lover kissed the back of your neck.

May you learn to be still

and let go he whose life moves without you.

May you live with bare feet and loose hair.

in love and in laughter

may you find the deepest of joys.

May you be ignorant and wise,

mistaken and honest,

passionate and lucid;

wholesome.

May you seek the seeker

and speak to the endless ocean

of your dreams of horses and escape.

May you be witness to so great a beauty

no words could possibly reveal it.

May you know my mother

as I have come to know her

in sorrow and in doubt,

like freedom and renewal,

may you carry the song of womanhood

like whispers, grace, dazzle

the world with your countenance.

May you be a storyteller

of great color and suspense

like my father,

whose soul hides in the Arkansas caves

and whose beauty resides

in the way he spends his days.

May you hunt and find and fall and hide behind

a hundred faces only to realize

we are all mirrors,

and hush, everything will be okay.

May the mountains be your home

and may your eyes be like the open sky,

rolling thunder passing by.

May you have patience with the world, Child,

while her skin is broken and her people are lost.