stand at the edge, doorway house

green field around you

you are awake at last

but empty, maybe less

than before

you wear clothes you have swallowed the thin soup

you are ready to know

if you are who you were

jonas is off chopping wood

now is the time

where you can walk alone

on skeletal feet to the edge of the water

the edge of the yard, the sun beats down

is yellow, is daffodil face

you are ready to know

if you are less

you hum

you are white hair blowing in the wind

you are skin and bone

you are

merely human

 

regret but also relief

that sleep could prove a thief

 

now you can live and die and eat bread

drink wine and let sleep take

whatever it might wish

you can be

merely human

 

ah, but now

a spike of fire on your brow

you on the edge of the water

on the edge of merely

you do what you must

you reach down

your hand in the water

your hand in the water

your hand is the water

the water is now

you replace blood with wind

skin with storm

you drink deep

ah, you drink deep