Watchtower

by Anna Ruiz

Through our hands these words are written
and yet they come from a watchtower.
The winds are scattered in four directions,
we feel the ocean on our faces,
we labour over love lost.
I am the Fabric of the Universe;
you are its rendering.
Time answers questions,
heaven greens our steps
as we walk.
We are angels dancing
on the wings of a dragonfly.
We travel light distances to be here
in these scratches on paper,
to bite the thoughts
of God and turn them over in our graves.