The Crossing

i
The soldier's boots tap off minutes
along the stone parapet.
The moon sheds silent radiance
to define his shadow,
the shadow of a sword
that writes in stone
the song of the warrior -
the words of the true heart.
A song of binding and making
to forge from scaffolds of fire
the iron jungles of the world.
He is the guardian of the crossing.

ii
I release you into better hands -
into the arms of the universe.
Rise with the vapour from the grass
and walk into the untamed fire,
the boiling star of dawn.

Such blessed goodbye is this
small last source of comfort,
sweet flesh drawn to empty
beneath the hands of friends.