And the last one, which is going to be
the last poem of the book, is called "Passage."
The spirit that walked upon the face of the waters
walks the meadow of long grass.
Green shines to silver where the spirit passes.
Wind from the compass point, sun at meridian.
These are forms the spirit enters.
Breath, ruach, light that is witness
and by which we witness.
The grasses numberless, bowing and rising,
silently cry Hosanna as the spirit
moves them and moves burnishing over and again
upon mountain pastures.
A day of spring.
A needle's eye.
Space and time are passing through like a swathe of silk.
Thank you.