--Dan Beachy-Quick
The sun brightens the clouds before it breaks
them apart. On the far side of the ocean
there are marble ruins of the broken
temples: the temple each cloud is. Ruin
is faith’s consequence—to house the force
that tears the house apart. The sun is
the yellow shield buckled on to the throat
of the sun-throated warbler—it says
with no words song’s unspeakable fact.
Silence is faith’s consequence—a world of
knowing that knowing is a world of not.
The book called The Sun held a fact one could love
but have no faith in. Close the book. Think,
thinker, in the dark. Moon—quiet the lark.
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