great energy that's buried
deep inside us
which we struggle
all our lives
not to clear, but
unencumber?
Is it not
that light
by which we might
love one another
so much
that it's painful-
ly counterproductive?—
and the heat
of we, the living
who have looked upon
the dying
yet have managed
to turn back toward the life
of this world,
daunted but preternaturally
alert forever after
to how greatly
this weight and its
shadow only serve to
explicate
the sky?
