An angel skidding in

between outstretched wings

 

drags behind his fantail

and sparks the flames--

 

the air is sheared and feet

dig deep into the turning earth

 

to send forth tremors

and stir from sleep

both the restless

and the peaceful...

 

We know these things:

 

there are N many revolutions

in an age

 

and Z is the magnitude of tears

that have touched the sun.

 

Yet, we cannot fathom the thing

we did to bring him here

 

nor can we calculate

what we must do

to set him free...