Unearthing a life.....

I want to still the dreams of the apples,
to remove them from the tumult of the graveyards.
I want to quiet the dream of that child
who would cast away the sea of his heart.

I have no wish to keep hearing that the dead do not
forfeit their blood;
that the corrupted mouth continues to beg for water.
I no lnger wish to teach of the martyrdoms of the grass,
nor of the devil-mouthed moon
that labours to the break of day.

I want to rest for a moment,
a moment, a minute, a hundred years;
but let all be assured that I am not dead;
that there is a stable of gold between my lips;
that I am the humble comrade of the Westwind;
that I am the infinite shadow of my own tears.

Hide me from the dawn behind a curtain,
while I throw off these handfuls of ants,
and moisten the roughness of my shoes with water
that the scorpion's pincers will find no purchase.

For I want to still the dreams of the apples
and learn a weeping that will cleanse me of earth;
for I would abide with that dark child
who would cast away the sea of his heart.