WEBVTT

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This is the first poem in
my book Border Crossings.

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It's called "The Light."

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It's dedicated to my
brother, Kevin Woodman.

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"Before the first light touched
the river, the rosebush pressed

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against the window,
was the silhouette

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of a man in rags looking in
between night and morning.

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It was morning.

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And this-- a way of saying,
'Look, child, the world

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is more than you suppose.

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Get up, get out there,
get down to the river.

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And take this little
bit of night with you,

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so you may better
understand what's coming.

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Be there when it first shines
on the water on the black noses

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of the deer as
they bow to drink,

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on the smooth skin of
the frog whose voice is

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so much bigger than its body.

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Watch for the steelhead working
purposefully toward the high

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pools and notice at the edge of
the gills the sickles of shine,

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all those moons fallen
into the sea, coming back,

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and the tracks the raccoons
left, filling now with light.'

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It was the day
before you were born.

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I got up and left
the house in a hurry.

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My dreams unresolved,
my shoes untied.

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We called the house
La Casa Contenta.

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The road, gravel.

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The pines, ponderosa.

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The dog, Rodrigo.

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And you-- you didn't
yet have a name.

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Even your anatomy
was a secret as you

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kicked in the wilderness
of a woman's belly,

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sensing as you must have
the change that was coming.

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I was eight years old,
mother was almost 40,

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and you were late.

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But you were strong and
healthy from the start.

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When she brought you home
and handed you to me,

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I held you, my
brother, carefully

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wrapped in a cotton blanket,
your eyes shut tight,

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your fingers sifting the air,
and your silky hair, that patch

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of black you brought
with you into the world,

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so black and shining with
the light we live by."

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