Now I Understand

 by Linda Gregg     Something was pouring out. Filling the field     and making it vacant. A wind blowing them     sideways as they moved forward. The crying     as before. Suddenly I understood why they left     the empty bowls on the table， in the empty hut     overlooking the sea. And knew the meaning     of the heron breaking branches， spreading     his wings in order to rise up out of the dark     woods into the night sky. I understood about     the lovers and the river in January.     Heard the crying out as a battlement，     of greatness， and then the dying began.     The height of passion. Saw the breaking     of the moon and the shattering of the sun.     Believed in the miracle because of the half heard     and the other half seen. How they ranged     and how they fed. Let loose their cries.     One could call it the agony in the garden，     or the paradise， depending on whether     the joy was at the beginning， or after