twice
it found its way
 
to our third-floor classroom
arriving shyly

hands in humble veneration
body bright green with grace

it glowed in the afternoon light
one morning

after the first touch of december
i found it

curled cold and flameless  
i held it

to the baptism of the rising sun
i offered it

one final step upon the wind
a perfect leaf drifting down

we make our way  
through the chaos of days

we seek
the sigh of trees
  
we long for moments  
in the listing sun

we balance the in between
of sun

and moon
winter

and spring
of the remains bequeathed

from one season
to the next

***** drifts
of melting snow

sidewalks thick
with rust brown pine needles

streets littered
with broken little branches

of trees
brooks babbling

with thaw water  
but right now

the sun has settled behind the mountain
right now

the crows ready themselves for sleep
right now

i fall deeper in love

we dance dust about the details of each day

we clasp hands and sing our tiny songs

we are quick to remember but even quicker to forget

one day the earth will quietly ask to take me back

to offer quiet closure

perhaps with the promise of a star spark or a cloud igniting in a sunset

perhaps i will receive nothing at all

when this body rinses from these bones i shall be far away

or I shall be right beside you

mystery is as simple as that

we de
part

and asc
end
and

o    nce
o    ver
o    ceans

we se
ek the

f    ine
l    ine

of the      hor
i               zon

in the
end

we de
sc
end

and ar
              rive
a            live

in a new light on a new road to a new beginning

we quick kicked thick
eddies of leaves

from skeleton trees
crows crack and scatter

frost kissed jack o lanterns
collapse

a swan wide winged
and wild

sunday church bells tell
the geese to arrow south

last night in bright papery bits
stars tossed and tangled

a moon collected upon the canal
i have no wants in this world

only this

we stirred
and startled the bird

standing there in the reeds
and the still of the eddy

legs
a stealth of sticks

head
a gaveled spike

and in that briefest moment
the heron

str   etc   hed   imp   oss   ibl   e wi   ngs

feathered gravel grey and unfolding
it grabbed hold of a rope of air

its long neck collapsing perfectly into its body
a fluency of grace and speed that soon saw it well above the water

and shadowing down the sand bars and creek beds

there can be no life without          fear
there can be no life without          love

don’t forget
to unsettle

the night sky
with your stars

we wake well
in the early hours

i sit
in a steady hive

of light
where stillness

is the reward
the chipmunks rest

beside me
and care not

that i exist
a carolina wren explores

the cold ashes
in the hearth

of my brother’s backyard fireplace
never knowing

that i am sitting right here
a tiny red spider knits

between the leaves
of the hydrangeas

oblivious of me
or the machine pushing

through the blue silk
of the sky

is there any greater truth in life?
is there anything better than the industry of each day?
when you leave, will i miss you?

we walk
blossom blessed

drift petals down
pollan dusted

color coded inks
in whites and pinks

let purple and yellow yawn
the day’s lush lining of dawn

a woodpecker with its percussive no-no-no-notes
the fanfare of the ferns unfurling

when things threaten
to spin at such terrific speeds

build bright and breathe
new windows will open and say

to that which inevitably speeds away
for a single moment more

stay

we walked
beneath a tree

teeming
it seemed

with white butterflies
hundreds of them
  
locked
in chaotic knots

of flight
it was quite

a sight
what with the heavy pace

of each day
it was nice

to find a quiet place
and watch

such a winged
display

we woke
to winter weight

and silence
snow upon

bridgeandroofandroad
now the sky

a catch
of blue

pigeons punch
the sun

seagulls satellite
in circles

this carousel spins at perfect speeds

light is never
uninvited

love even
less so

we write the sky
with worthless words

ease erased
by the wings of birds

dead leaves crack
beneath my tread

color dusting
orange gold and red

what is the beautiful question?
ask the tremble

of rain
ask the ocean

ask the leaves
that breathe freedom

we seek
to straighten the face

of buddha
to listen

to the rippling
of the bells

these are the irreparable embers
of the heart

and these have been the answers
all along

what makes the music so?

what sets a sound inward
or outward?

what lifts the notes
from the page?

are you a voice
an instrument
in between the silences?

what does the bell
of life
ring for you?

what of this rain
                             cold
upon the leaf last free

what of this leaf
                             gold
upon a goldless tree

for once
to let them

both be
me

what we build
with brittle sticks
and little scars
lingers
in the language
of trees
rests
among the secrets
of stones

we control nothing

stand on any shore
sights set to the horizon
searching for answers
but what we need

is not             touched by tides
is not             found in the sliding of the sun
is not             floating in the many blue notes of the sea

they remain
where they have always been
and where they always will

when chaos commands
we unbalance scream and seethe
what remains of truth
is bruised and muted
what survives of beauty
is shattered and bleeding


who are we?


sometimes
the greatest courage requires
stillness

sometimes
the greatest strength requires
staring
into the raging face of fear

unblinking