I could have left a note
but it’s windy over there near the bay
You’ll be back before the melting
they remind us every day anyway
I listen to Neve and The Deer Children
sing songs in a language I do not understand
Which path did you choose at the crossroad
I wonder over morning coffee
Where is her other hand you’ll probably ask
when you arrive and find my sign
Why are there no footprints
either coming or going
clarity
contemplate your resurrection path
winds are strong today
avert the fragile makers
empty vessels travel weightless
anchors having all rusted away
your hair obscures your view
yet you see what needs be seen
a blurring
a sign
a single thread
soft speaking from the edge of
a craggy cliff
a hem of your old sweatshirt
Who among us thrives
when one philosophizes
while the other feigns deep listening
Thanks for the adjunct, I said
though to myself not aloud
We were sitting together on a bench
You opining
I half listening
We two half friends
balancing between true life and mediocrity
🎵Sing it.🎵
Study the language
What is the first line
When did your understanding begin
How many questions have you asked
Why not
Who are you now
Who were you before
What is the one purpose to which you aspire
The sky delivers notes on a messenger bird
Check your pockets
You may imagine you need a translator
You need only be still
Be
What is the message
What does a sky know anyway
More than I
More than you
A dimensional traveller
A seer
A curator of acts
A promulgator of fate
A harbinger
A collage of beauty and debris
A curtain of velvet and chain
A theatre of death metal and symphony
A canvas for reverence and horror
A chameleon of change and stasis
A prophet of mysterium tremendum
Whose eyes witness this same sky
What message do you send
When you believe no one sees
But the eyes of your intention
What is your métier
Today is the matter
Tomorrow you may know better
Forever soars with tireless wings
There’s a crack where ice meets the sun
A star open to the temporary
A hole to a cool underworld
I pause in this moment to ponder
My invitation to the party below
And yes, am I tempted
But so do I remember
Qualifications lacking
I am only half blind
Unstable when disconnected from earth
And cannot swim
Someone stirs Poet
imagining her a steamy soup made from river water
He only need stir and wait stir and wait
Boiling sends germs skyward
or so Someone has come to believe
Chains without locks unsteady his focus
but the jingling is comforting, a burden endured willingly for the prize
Red-winged blackbird alights in the hemlock’s shade
his song urging shuffling, then a reluctant stumble of a dance step
Oh distraction! Someone sways in reverie
disturbing the balance of malcontent
Poet escapes while Someone shakes a wooden spoon
that is not a spoon but a rattle with a song
Someone lifts a heavy head of grey anger
resisting the fragility of whispering clouds
Not yet has awareness opened wide enough
to notice Poet has taken the chains
Not yet Someone notices new lightness
Possibility in steps
A face is pressed against a window watching
sun’s slow slumber falling behind low hills
A face is thin lines etched into vapour caught
between distance and moments of deep winter freeze
Your face invisible
recording passing scenes
You are a passenger
This is a speeding vessel
You are not aimless but
I am only part time a driver
My attention wavers from
this winding road our wheels move along
That lake looks lonesome
like a wanderer dreaming of home.
Meet me there early
Drakes and hens in calm waters
Morning lights the bog
Hurry your eloquent passion
Time slicing devisor of measures
Breathing’s an act of deliberate intention
Dancers like you touching ground
Leave no trace evidence for eyes
Resting comes soon with practice
A bench to contemplate grace
Warmed by hours in afternoon sunlight
Twilight arrives with patient treasure
Gathered from days of the world