Under every cathedral there’s a spring of pure emptiness architects and priests search out these springs wherever they find one a cathedral’s built without cathedrals emptiness would water the land it would flow through the long wet lashes of grass and under the massed white and yellow flowers under the faint red filmy leaves of spring and over the sparkling stones and around the roots of the trees it would find out valleys and engrave them with its own downward crashing capture of light it would swell into rivers shaded and wept by willows. and join a sea forever empty of boats forever empty of children playing on its shores whom it aches to embrace and whose castles only it could erase inside each cathedral a fish floats high in stone air and in a sky of glass he is the sun’s fish dreaming of that spring and in his eye we swim to his dreamt heaven around its shores little houses are built and children clap at the incense of fires