The Task

What has, will and can be seen
Feeds at root in crimson pools
Through all
These binding waters flow
By channels interwoven

Without a fear of severance
When horizon sun beheads
Would leave endless days of drought
And dust to keen
Through our hollow husks

In pillars made of flesh and bone
In repose and undisturbed
Would rot our hearts unwrung

Though clouds are licked by flame
From the fiery tongues of man unhinged
Ruin that's sought may buried be
By all bodies in love entwined

Risk our hands in others' held

To be seen
Stripped and raw
Under threat of rending blows
The task of souls imbued with light
Risk our hands in others' held