Silence is the rock where I shall stand.
Oh, when I strike it with my hand
may the artesian waters spring
from that source I long to find.

- Judith Wright

All year I have waited for silence
like a farmer waits for rain
angling my ear like he would
his eye

all year I have waited for darkness
to reach me once again
wrap its deep arms around me
call it rest

and as night pulls down its blind
of stars     the bold orb cuts clear
above me     round mouth a cold gasp

these days I do not wait for
invitations     but the yes! in my body 
pulls me     to a place the precise shape
of sleep

standing now on the moon’s surprised 
surface     amidst an enormous
nothing     space beyond horizon  
winking, humorous stars

here I push my feet
into a cold I’ve never known
on a surface spurned
by sun

monochrome     I raise my arms
into impossible absence
and my ears sing
the hush

I am a new shoot
in this world of ancients
I inhabit the status
of ants

while all around     this orchestra 
of everything     haze and halo 
where even light
has aged

and where for a moment
the indifference of rock
becomes a brilliant
home     until

I lose all anonymity
back behind walls     
steeped in sun    contained 
by familiar gravity.