I am barefoot, sometimes the way is soft, a frog
leaps pondward, touching my foot, the birds keep watch
I don’t know where I am going, what I will find
there are berries in fleeting season, wild flowers
in these I believe, my holy task is to see
or to swim so slowly a turtle barely blinks
can I be lost if I am here and here and here
does the one I called god ask any more of me
why do I cry silently all night for mercy?
the one I believed in is called the way; is he
a deer thicket, a swarm of bees, my bravery
as I prepare for undress rehearsal of death?
when the sun is high and hot there is only sweat
I forget tears, mosquitoes and ticks seek my blood
I bequeath my living body to this summer
how far must I walk to leave behind betrayal
my own and others’, when does it become blessing
Elizabeth, let go, your feet will find the way.