“The bird lies still while the light goes on flying.”
From “Unknown Age,” by W. S. Merwin
Those with strapped-on wings
for ages dreamt of flying like the birds
and fell from cliffs broke limbs or died.
But when I ask for the wind’s help
getting beyond the mind’s bent roads
and its dead ends it sighs and says
(with a whoosh) I’ll take you there
just as soon as all your words are ash.
