It’s hard to describe 
what has happened actually 
it’s so many things 
one laid one against 
the next that I 
when looking back see
and now looking forward 
also see I guess 
that what has happened 
is that I got 
nothing more nothing less 
than just I got 
to where I’m going 

Candles are lit
coffee is made
music is playing 
cream and sugar 
added and stirred 
now I wait
like a book
about to read 
mystery to tell 
oh such secrets 
of magical adventures 
when I hear
that familiar creak
that quiet walk
there you are 
and this morning 
has just begun 

And like finger 
to key I
tap my song 
on your ribs
a sweet melody 
of calm whereas
before it was 
the tympani thumping 
so loud that 
I could feel 
its own rhythm 
in my chest 
but now in
this calm I
hear the giggle 
of each delicate 
note I play 

Wisdom is a
brook in which
one can when 
found dip hands
in and drink 
at first cold 
and then moist 
it gives life
wisdom is like 
the water itself 
only a reflection 
of what’s been 
and by virtue 
of its movement 
is never there
long enough to 
pool for a 
pool is life’s 
end quietly languid 

The beauty 
love is
its wellspring 
from which 
everything else 
flows forth 
becoming trickle 
brook river 
ocean clouds 
rain and 
even snow