Draw a line to the edge of town

Draw a line to the edge of town

Where the trees are tall

And the crowds thin out 

Where the ground climbs towards the sky

Shrines like fingernails on the town's hand 

Where people long ago built gateways to the wild and what's beyond 

All this longing tied into paper 

Squeezed in among the prayers of others

Watched over by spirits

Centuries of dreams, quietly observed

I bow, ring the bell and clap twice

Calling in the wild to my lungs

Birdsong to my breath

The hum of a butterfly's wing

Catch a golden leaf as it falls.