Dreaming Barefoot Over Aquifer Forest

i push off

a tree bald mountain.

shadow voices call,

where are you going?

i say nothing

and float north

over snow-packed forests.

icebergs

flow under me

through evergreens

like warm icing

down fresh-ovened cake.

the shadow voices

are on the soles

of my feet,

when a pack of angels

hound me

to the ground

into an ancient maze

of rope and stone.

the shadow voices call,

trust your feet.

run!

i run barefoot

over clear,

frozen water,

see a fish

and a rusted,

anchor-sized hook

and ask, what do fish dream?

the answer comes

as a sound

carrying all the shades

of blue and frost and fire.

i stop my burning feet

in sun-warmed mud,

and hear the shadow voices

return,

here. we’ve been waiting.