Time Will Make Things… clear.
With blood on my hands, I stand
still in a field
Still like leaves growing, still
like lungs breathing.
I don’t know what I’ve done. I don’t
know where I’ve been.
I ask myself, “Who’s blood is this
and why?”
Before
I start to cry, the clouds clear and I can see the Coyote Moon. As I stare to
the stars I begin to remember.
Stars
are just lights to remind us the earth is round.
We live where we eat and we eat
where we sleep.
The blood is of my Father.