I am not dead yet.
My bare feet scale
shiny pocked
blue volcanic
rocks the floods have salved
into familiar shale
and between the pale
sand stripes
a rock’s black oil
crinkles at my heel.
Every dimple reveals
the universe within
these stones is sound.
Let me clench all pain
on to this line
and let it down
into that starry stone.
Let me draw a sunfish
out of the Absolute
alone.
Let foil freckles
muscle its middle
as fire flexes gases
through a star.
Let me grasp its fins’
prehistoric axes
till their transparent
spires splice
the aren’t
from who You are.