The plaster of this world cracked, and as it curled and shed itself,
the volcano told of ancient islands where children were a rain sound.

Stars are spoken from the mouths of animals. Colors rise unbidden from their souls, rinsing the world like the gentlest gestures of any morning’s dawnlight.

We come, we say, from beyond the dust and trembling furies. We come from the flame within the leaf, from the shining waters and all her fateful chambers.