the terrifying magnanimity of sagehood

i. Does earth thrive on the kindness of the bear I pray

it does     does its salt bring the keenness of its blurry

heart to play I pause     does its tremble bleed only

worn drops of the moon I light the stolen candle & look ii. I as fool am forgotten the sage acts

with the kindness of the knife sheathed

as if forgotten but at times remembers &

sharp

iii. I cannot let metaphor be steel, it has to breathe among

roots     cannot let word be an adminstra- tive assistant

its care is not about wondering flight but more care

I cannot let song be the slide-rule     its dig- itization is

sapping the ocean of worry     & that makes it less supple -

iv. as i flit from flower to flower i see i am not bird or bee but the why of the street song as it meets the unsought child as churn the repetitive recitation of how the why should be such & so -

v.

"Heaven is my father and earth is my mother, and I, a small child, find myself placed intimately between them. What fills the universe I regard as my body; what directs the universe I regard as my nature. All people are my brothers and sisters; all things are my companions."

- Zhang Zai