To get to the whole  
     (whole is the true
is the truth)   
     take the woods
through to the house     
     of sun and moon. 

“Here is one hand,
     here is another.
These are the yellowed     

     callous and knuckle,
those are the bevels   
     on the jeweled ring.” 

How would it look  
     if sun circled earth,
if someone were tall    

     as their own palm,
if left hand    
     deeded to right?    

Rust little, son.    
     Subdue tenderness
adoration, thunder. 

     Baths of stars   
wash earth 
     we are. The whole 

is the true   
     is the truth
cannot rest.