Mother, I am not meant for this I stand in the rain Dumbfounded and searching, wiping my self from my eyes No matter how still I become I am still spinning I see my self in every thing Crawling, yawning, swimming, digging Knowing I have a before Only after I have learned this much The lake is a mother I am feathered, buoyant in its swell If you long for time enough, absence becomes a kind of presence Distance can be made taut as a line between us No cord is broken My ears carry this still beating heart like a breath I listen for you The sound that silence makes