when fear is not enough to hold me, I rise like the tide to kiss the moon

Her fears are kernels of sand

breaking apart and landing in an ocean

wide and bright and dark all at once. 

When surrender feels like tall trees and extending wide and open into an 

endless earth,

it seems impossible to be uprooted. 

And then the earth shakes. 

She is saved by diamonds and caverns, 

full forests and storms

until the wind blows. 

There's this assumption that what sinks cannot fly.

But they would be wrong. 

Wings are just shoulders 

for men made of crushed up salt and stone. 

When you think you're falling,

become the sky. 

survival means forgetting

Here 

I am lost to time. 

Where the dread lives 

in hoarfrost and kettles. 

This feeling is a denouement. 

Once a blackbird alighting on a fence post, 

now a flighty thing with wings 

like charcoal across the snow. 

So much has been given to time. 

And forever will be.