I want this love for one to stand for all
a wooden staff embedded in the ground
to bud as tree and fruit with myth and lore
I want to know this once before I fall

I want to see that what I was before
when I was on the wave beyond her call
was not as lost as what I thought I found
between the give and take of something more

I want to know the echo of the sound
ring true across the limit of the shore
she is the falling man before a stall
the fall of man towards a higher ground

she is the rest of grace and still I fall
through leaf and bough toward the rooted ground
through wisdom that I could not know before
she is the rest of grace, and that is all