what can match this restlessness
when all that needs doing is uncomfortable
and all the fun is empty.
when i turn and turn again
like a certain leopard in the 13th century
what can match this longing
these desperate please
for blessings, assistance,
to see you more clearly.
amid these mountains, the sea, great sweeping plains,
forests of mighty trees, yellowstone, yosemite,
there is no peace.
i’ll cut down that tree, burn the wood,
ten thousand plastic bottles for the sea.
These contributions are not so valuable
in all the wide world, the infinite expanse
there is in me a tiny grain of grief
that minute longing is majestic.
not these words.