Every Day I Want to Fly My Kite

Give the world to the world, time to the flood, give ash to gardens and grain to trees. I am not cowed by the superlative nature in trees. I am lifted and see petals opening. Give the freckled ground to sun, give sepulcher to sky, to song. I am not one to disregard thrush, diminish sparrow. Give the arrow to lovers, night to lavender, lavender to sleep, to wing to want to wound to wonder the night’s watch, the optical dawn. Give water to stone, stone to echo. In the mosaic the dove’s wings

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