Small is the number
of those that see
with their own eyes
and feel
with their own hearts.

Einstein

 

for
gentleness

be

for
dawn

for
nothing

but
dawn

 

I want

to begin
with ahhh

and end
with ahhh

to be
and be

in
between

 

out there
rake in hand
on guard
against the wind
circling her
pile of leaves

from my window
I watch her
draw me
from my prayers
to pray

 

lowly peninsulas
they are
the first
to search the floors of night
and test the surf of day

shoved and shod
I ignore their tremors
from below
until the winter in me
breaks
to graze them
in the green
of summer
and let them
wiggle
me

 

 

an island
rises
around
a lagoon
of delicately
balanced
delay

I linger there
in the surf
of the coming day

to notice how
not  a thing
moves
everywhere

 

I peek in
the room is vast
white with wonder
black with glory

nothing
in the middle
sits

with a smile
ready
to notice

all
there
is

 

at any given
moment
we can become
transparent
without the wind stopping
or waves counting
on themselves to be
waves

change
and change again
rises through a thousand
camp fires on and endless
plain before the oldest
battle for the brilliant
emerald valley inside
a moment of
nothing
but
a breath