What passes through my heart

What passes through my heart
That the scent of molten iron spills from my words
What passes through my imagination
That the bubbling of light is heard from my veins
What passes through my head
That the storm, stuck in my throat, trembles
I have searched through all names
And hidden your name
I know a dark night is coming
And I need the lamp of your name
Storms stand waiting at the crossroads
And they await me
And I need the boat of your name
I have confused the sun toward your house
Van Gogh’s sunflower
Your presence, like a candle at the valley’s depth, is enough
That like a panther I may leap into the lap of life
The full moon dissolved in the sky
What passes through my book
That the cut-down trees rise again
They become paper
So I may speak of you
What passes through my head
That on tiptoe walk tiger and God
In my imagination