If anyone asks me about the quiet

that follows the storm,

climb up on a ladder to the roof,

and dance and sing,

and say, “this quiet!”

I was dead, and then alive,

The wonder of love washed over me,

and I became proud, like a big stag,

and then softs and tender, like

a half moon peeking from the clouds.

She said, “you don’t belong in this house,”

and so I went wild, and fled into the darkness,

I chewed my cud and became a madman

and a fool.

I said, “its not enough, I want more,”

I broke out of the dark and into

the realm of joyfulness,

where I live now, and

I have wings, I can fly

anytime I want,

I am the prophet,

the guide.

If you ask me about longing

in my heart, I will lift up my face

to the sky, and whisper

“like this.”