All the Tears Run Downhill

We've spent nights in the nests of the birds
Palms to the rough weave, searching for softness,
Feeling for feathers.
We've climbed down from mountains, oaks
With the cold dawn stretching our shadows
Back into night.
Now, alone, we walk the grasses to edges;
Come in the moonlight to the water, any water
Pull feather to bone.
We will drink the sorrow of the kingdom
Like wine, like blood, through pinion straws,
Through joy's uplift.

We will lighten their dreams.
We will sip away their anchors.
We will sigh them upward.