Untitled

Here is a place where nothing can die
Darkness that lives beneath the leaves

We bring our nights there without knowing
We bring our fear there before the singing begins
We bring our silent names there hoping we are forgiven

We bring our hands there scented of a river

We bring our prayers that hide and watch us
The landscape where we have held the loose feathers
Of a fallen bird

And awakened in the land of the unseen

Here is a place where nothing can die ...

Copyright © 2024 by Lance Henson. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on November 29, 2024, by the Academy of American Poets.

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“I began this poem during the pandemic in Italy.”
—Lance Henson