Fall Of Water

do not blame

your head 

or your hands

or your heart

if you can’t 

make everything right

it doesn’t matter 

what blood you spill

on the stone, or

how deep you pull

from the womb

of the world, or how

you may seize 

on the enchantment

of the first breath

there is not 

enough power

in any of us 

for you to promise 

the magic of transformation

though you might

break yourself trying 

I lie awake 

in the morning 

half-dreaming 

of other means 

that I might rise up

and force the mists

to part over the low

paths that wind 

through the marsh 

and the wood and 

over to the 

fall 

of water