No one simple word for what brings us here
love, trust, promise, ritual, vow, embrace,
familyall these, certainly, and more:
the unnamed spirit that stokes the sun, spins
the planet on its axis, pulses tides
and winds, pumps breath in and out, takes lovers
by their ringed hands and invites them into
the unknown. Some great hidden heart beats here,
and all around. Even now, the late light
on the ridge sparkles two fresh streams that join
their wild waters into a single creek
sure to spill into the Columbia
bending, slow and wordless, toward the sea.
That is why we are here: The earth needs this.
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FRiGG: A Magazine of Fiction and Poetry | Issue 43 | Spring 2014