There is no end in me For the Border Country Beyond the wall and the gate The fields run away endlessly. There is no end in me For the Border Country There's all this space to incarnate And all the selves that I could be. And so I stand Quiet in its wake and watchful, A sense of myself Fleeting as a touch of joy (on a winter morning stark blue, Cheeks like bones in the scent of birds). There is no end in me. Maybe all is as it should be, That I should find myself at home Among the many lives that sing to me That I should find myself at home Among the many lives that sing to me.