(from a print by David Blackwood)
The hand of God has hacked this shipfrom eaves of ice that roof the worldand now it floats in silent strengthreminding me of the cold, blind forcethat shapes our lives and feeds our fears.
We row at night in boats to feelthe new blue light of moon and icebeneath this cold and ancient dreamthat wants to test our own beliefs.It almost seems like holinessto stand this small beneath these cliffs,these vaulted walls of winter white.
You feel the weight deep down insidelike thunder or extinction's calm.Had I the heartI'd climb the sidesto meet the moonand leave a harsh and ragged landto float off south to other seastill nothing's left but warmthand waves.
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