Step lightly

Turn then to face your own light, so shadows

fall behind, and wherever the path goes

uphill, down, or peters out, stay the trail

even if the odd constellation fails,

even if the coppery moon never glows.

Paths and poetry both come to an end,

words fall and shatter, useless to pretend

otherwise, their edges sharp as broken stone.

Step lightly into yourself and go on,

turn up that wick that can’t be darkened.