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Through the Darkness toward Home
Don Hynes
The sky closes and gray water churns
the mountains and nearby islands
just outline without definition;
everything is as it’s always been
except the fish do not return
and the birds are few.
What ceremony can I perform,
whose face to carve upon the cedar?
Slick mud covers the roads,
rocks wet and treacherous;
the messages she sends harsh
as years of suffering take their toll.
She shakes beneath Patagonia,
waves shock the Molucca Sea.
I look out thirsting for her beauty
as the tide shifts, the force of ebb taking hold
and down in the roots I hear her drumming,
following the heartbeat, the high keen of her voice
moving through the darkness toward home.
April 9, 2010