Stars are the rubble in the world, glittering from the hills of our lives. But they pulse, these hurtling stars, through black silence; rangy and thick with light, they straighten between our hands, clutching on our wrists, filling our lungs.

I lean, held by the earths whisper, the weight of this chaos is my breath: a tree bends towards the trees, singing mysteries to deep knowing, among changing notes of a live wire, our bodies touch tonight.

• Muriel Rukeyser