A beach of dream before the smoking mirror.
You are close to that surf, and the leaves heated by noon, and
the star-ax, the miner’s glitter walls. The crests of the sea
Are the same strength you wake with, the darkness is the eyes
of children forming for a blaze of sight and soon, soon,
Everywhere, you own silence, who drink from the crater, the
nebula, one another, the changes of the soul.
— Muriel Rukeyser, from “[Murmurs from the earth of this land],” The Collected Poems of Muriel Rukeyser (University of Pittsburgh Press 2006)