To the horned one, the Stag, to Puck:

fierce and watery
the moon hanging heavy within me
I am infuriated by--brought to tears by--the laws of Man
when the governance of Nature is so immanent, pervading all things, all cells which I call Self
how can I bend to the will of our time?
there is no way Home
other than Surrender

this ferociousness I feel is the one gift of the tired levees, now beginning to creak and give beneath the weight of the dust of so much time
the tears, and the bones of so many children grown old

the fire inside my chest, which burns my cheeks as it seeks level ground, pouring through me as the tears of a frail human form--it is the gift, the key, the element with the power to heal and transmute this history of heaviness

and to once again restore
what we all wish to make whole