We navigate the dead air in search of thunderclouds
none of us know the right route and none
of the instruments are navigational but
we are a tight crew and we stay spinningly afloat
upon this endlessly self-delineating boat

three eyes and none
a perilous equilibrium

the engine at the heart of the storm
will not turn without reaction

without propellant, oxygen
the collision of iron and stone

and vacuum enough to hang the atoms in
as we attempt to launch microscopic suns

with wood and wire, string and skin

we pick our tools and we trade hard

as we plough the groove
and dig mountains
as we learn time
and bleed funds

I am blessed to carry my share of these
voices and their incessant alchemy    a song
that hounds me even to the place of dreams –

I rejoice when it is heavy      because it is no burden

only the sky coming down to shake our hands
and the continents shaking with mirth and
Mercury, running quick over the earth..


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