Thrust

Depleted, we strain 
to escape erasure;  proof
thrust upon us.  

Too many came
before us-  the dead 
or after-  the unborn.

One trapped on earth 
in smoke and chain, the other
visible from a distance 

in newly formed light 
of their only window.

Should we pay the price
of absoluteness to be
ignored or should

the soul's child pray
damaged and beautiful
before each night's test?

Together alone, marked
each star placed carefully
at its designated distance.

Oh darling hear the wolf
howl like a heartful of teeth
at the cold, dark night

so sure of its existence.