What I must give

who is the primordial influence on writing?

I owe you everything

Because you took my blood and gave me silver,

And you took my heart and gave me a lark,

And you took my eyes and gave me crystals.

My future was decoded

In the pages of unpublished books

Lingering in abandoned libraries.

By your wisdom I rebuilt the tabernacle

And the desecrated churches, 

And I resurrected your totem in the center of the room.

Under your watchful gaze I slept

And each letter I wrote brought me closer

To the beginning of the word and the dream of the rood.