Drum voice, why have you called me?
I was just beginning to be modern, I even listen
to the news occasionally,
why have you called me?
In this world that is not a world,
in this ancient voice you throw around the spirit room.
I was just beginning to see the sense in life-insurance,
dreaming myself as an above average retiree, and you,
calling me to run the full moon bloodstream with wolves,
and shadow down the city-lights
with one more mountain
I must climb
to the ends of all this rhythm asks
and only promising emptiness and grief.
There are no stars to reach for here, or follow.
There is no truth left deep inside to fathom out
and give you leave to free.
I have one more day in the sun.
I have one night to wreath.
Why have you called me?
Why have you asked without words my heart,
Why have you risen from the dead,