exodus

we're going
a draught
travelling from chink to cleft
through vastness in between
as airily as a thought in a dream
the white between stars
where no hands shake in the cold
other than light
on its way to eternity
never to be caught again
moulded into mass again
courses crooked by what it has become
tears jerked out of eyes by hooks
questions
with bate: the answers
here fly the happy birds
picking up new signs of seeds
not knowing that they have learned
past the moon like an eyelid
like God blinking
to the sun rising; the yolk of the day
the yoke of stewardship