I am clearing a space here, where the trees stand back. I am making a circle so open the moon will fall in love and stroke these grasses with her silver. I am setting stones in the four directions, stones that have called my name from mountaintops and riverbeds, canyons and mesas. Here I will stand with my hands empty, mind gaping under the moon. I know there is another way to live. When I find it, the angels will cry out in rapture, each cell of my body will be a rose, a star. If something seized my life tonight, if a sudden wind swept through me, changing everything, I would not resist. I am ready for whatever comes. But I think it will be something small, an animal, padding out from the shadows, or a word spoken so softly I hear it inside. It is dark out here, and cold. The moon is stone. I am alone with my longing. Nothing is happening but the next breath, and the next is the new life.