When we touch
The One Who Knows
we touch our own
pearlescent core
transparent and so brilliant.We find That One Deep
in Elysian Fields of frolic,
upon the face of mountains,
and in the deep bone deserts,
we find The One Who Knows
in our fires of becoming.It is the Valley of Dry Bones,
the charnal parched and bony strand
with bone-dust laying down for sand
that walking comes The One Who Knows
and singing re-creation songs
and the truths we tell make harmonies
to reach the very stars.The One Who Knows is in the eyes
of dying children, hateful men
and weary women burdened, stripped
of womb and wonder, chained and whipped…

The One Who Knows is lurking deep
inside the secrets that we keep
and clings to every prideful steep
to conquer every peak and peek.In our insistent blood They Speak,
in our starved souls, in raven’s beak,
in padded paws and jungle roar
The One Who Knows waits on Their Shore

calling
singing
crying
sighing
knowing

showing the dead how to live backwards
into forever and before the day.