birthday poem

∴ unctuous winds drip honey
through the heather and the hills
ripe with umbra
nest their riddles
so many things to love
the world reveals

lock-picked mornings
the galumph of beasts
through frost-fanged trails
where keepsakes sleep
tinctures spill their bittersweet
truths into streams

flush with the applause
hearthsong minstrel-birches
the air turns pulp-soft
fleshed with the weight
of something enormous—
this great turning
this day that ignites
frescoes blaze
on the forest-chapel
of the becoming

let us tumble into its open chest
nesting in its marrow
hoarding the embers
of what burns and what remains ∴