If I
were to
return back
I’d consider
coming but
only as
the wind
for to
be the
hidden force
which moves
other things
is itself
a divinity
Category: Kindness
Knew
I woke
to rain
a purr
of percussion
I opened
the window
and watched
as drops
broke the
mirrors of
light puddles
and everything
else besides
the cool
shiny black
of streets
returning to
bed then
I knew
Tends
Time tends
but not
to things
like flocks
but to
promising pebbles
bringing baubles
to life
by over
and over
again tumbling
one against
the other
making shine
Lake (for Silas)
And before
is water
and after
are trees
and under
likely unseen
and atop
float pads
and all
make evening
this lake
Wheat
Two feet
and upright
Zen talks
about standing
on ones
own absent
of attention
one straw
in a
never ending
field of
yellow wheat
and the
brush of
the hush
