sweet wind of eternity
lilywhite scent; I have longed to slip
beyond the shores of postmodernity
within your silver halls
to lay me on the naked ground
and weep. until wept you sweep
me upon falcons’ pinions
gilded wings of morning.

but since I cannot come to you,
break, blow, burn
this world’s walls;
whirlwind, fall
upon this poor house
shake, furnish, and renew;
you come find me.