Beginning

In the mouth of every 
great unknowing, 
nothing can help you 
find the first, sure steps 
into the landscape.

If there is a force
that guards the fields—
if there is a throat 
that emits an electric 
humming—

you won't hear 
but feel it. The sun 
is either directly 
above or trapped 
at the bottom 

of an abyss, until
the water shines
a certain way 
and it floats toward 
a green cordon

of trees. 
Don't look
for signs left
by pilgrims;
for warnings 

about turns
that might keep 
doubling back on 
themselves. Think
instead of how

you dreamed
of a country, weather-
carved and soil-softened,
with paths that held up
whoever set foot there.