Where we die,
\nin elephantine canyons of despair.
\nIn the morning when the light
\nrushes through the window
\nand we hold on for one last glimpse.
\nThe spirit doesn’t die easily.
\nIt weeps and wails in the end.
\nWith tusks worn down through battles
\nwith dreams and shipwrecks.
\nWhere we die is a child.<\/p>\n
Its last stare at beauty,
\nat fog,
\nhearing something it missed.
\nIts name called out
\nbeseeching it to wake.
\nThen no more in someone’s arms.
\nLost.<\/p>\n
A shivering in the trees.
\nA stillness.
\nA rhapsody and struggle.
\nThis is divinity,
\ntranscendence.
\nDust to dust,
\natonement forever.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Where we die, in elephantine canyons of despair. In the morning when the light rushes through the window and we hold on for one last…<\/p>\n