Entanglement

My student speaks to me again,
a bearded priest, preaching
about the scary entanglement
of the universe,

all of our parts consuming each other
and then collapsing like a fire stoked high
and descending into glowing coals;

children at play and dancing
until the night and sleep presume
their humble roles, silence turned
with decisiveness under the covers.

I gird myself for all the ways
his knowledge and certainty will wound me.
His animal body alive and cringing
at the many losses he can already see.

We plant trees around the perimeter of the sacred space,
hoping this sister chant and all the mystical languages

will somehow protect us from the many nights
we will never know how to unbind ourselves.