Moving Forward

The deep parts of my life pour onward,
as if the river shores were opening out.

It seems that things are more like me now,

That I can see farther into paintings.

I feel closer to what language can't reach.

With my senses, as with birds,

I climbinto the windy heaven, out of the oak,
in the ponds broken off from the skymy falling sinks, as if standing on fishes.