The web, the link,
the wink, the blink.

Yarn that wends through labyrinths;
thin threads that may mend every hole.

Numberless invisible nadis, physical
nerve endings in every foot and hand.

Railroads, highways, natural riverways;
backs and spines of mountainous ranges.

Languages written in stone and on wood,
words in tongues known — and unknown.

All alphabets finally running together —
with each letter as it was originally formed.

Sacred world texts written and unwritten —
so many over-redacted beyond recognition.

The routes that birds and bees follow over
lands and seas; hummingbirds from Mexico.

Everything that has moved across the faces
of earth — all that is beyond and deep within.

Nothing escapes connection: those little tiny
lines that attach, detach, and reattach again.

. . . . .

Susan Powers Bourne
11 april 2017