THE HALF-FINISHED HEAVEN

Depression breaks off its course.

Anxiety breaks off its course.

The vulture breaks off in flight.

The fervent light pours out,

even the ghosts take a drink.

And our paintings are revealed,

our Ice Age studio’s red beasts.

Everything begins to look around.

We walk in the sun by the hundreds.

Each person is a half-open door

leading to a room for everyone.

The endless ground under us.

Water shines between the trees.

The lake is a window into earth.