Brave One

brave one

I can't tell you how it happens

for I see you're still wild

with words to stoke lung-fire

and I can see your dreams, discipline, and how

the world hasn't shaken your roots yet

It wasn't so long ago that I could

find myself ecstatic about the trees creaking

warm silence between the voices of crickets

as summer washed over the folds of the mountains

and I prayed that nothing moved

so that my mind could still shimmer like

a nickel at the base of the well

meeting rays of the unbreakable dawn

a red brushstroke, unworn and unafraid

as if for the first time

indeed I can hear the new days ahead

though maybe not as you hear them

syllables of the old fires simmering in the swales

shut out from the news back home

be careful

carry your dreams over the mountains

the weight of words on your back

build the old house out of your memories

knowing it won't last

mind your own sword

know that it sharpens only by cutting

that you may lose everything

your eyes stunned wide

having never had their fill of sight