Loom

 

When wolves ripple the night sky 

with song

 

each note falls 

up

to tangle among

the threaded stars

 

as if tethered to one great 

loom

 

around which the mountains 

sit, drawing the sea like a 

shuttle

 

back and forth

back and forth

 

weaving 

with each voice 

a medicine of endings

and beginnings

 

spun within a timeless,

twinkling warp

 

like a heart

or a river,

beating in the flow between 

sky and earth

 

 carrying the wild light

of everything.