A Poem: Untainted

The Michelia Yunnanensis half open budsare pure white against the dark,that I can’t seem to draw the curtains. And I can’t decide how it isthat a tree’s small bloomscan outshine the moon. Perhaps it’s its purity,its proliferance of bud.A kind of defense against the night,maybe a protest against dusk’s tendencyto draw everything in,blur definition. And … More A Poem: Untainted

A Poem: Imbued

Everything beautiful rings, vibrates as a pan fluteechoing across the hills,as the sunset pours itself outof its last vestiges of paint. Everything beautiful disturbs, like a kittenamongst freshly ordered clothes,that we need to start againbuilding piles,restoring the ordinary. Or the stop start of the heartat the flash of a scene against thebackdrop of the mind,catching … More A Poem: Imbued

A Poem: Sensing

I don’t think a prayer goes unanswered. There are the birds that start singingbefore the dawn. Bravely, loudly,with utter confidence in the break of day. Faith then, I’ve decided is this certain thingthat can sing in the dark. And hope perhaps,a thought of light before it arrives. Yes, if God can give us imaginationfor faith … More A Poem: Sensing

A Poem: This Close

More central than gravityI pivot on you,as on the eye of the needle. More present than airI walk in youas the sea surrounding. My eyes cannot focuson the things too near,but you still live here, just a hair’s breadth away. And I swing, as the planetsin their circle,hardly knowing the force that pulls. But feeling … More A Poem: This Close

A Poem: A Practice

I wash my handsof possession, procrastination. Swipe right,one palm across the other, scattering all that clings. Then bring the two together,skin to skin, that my hands are now a steeplesoft against the chest. An openingto an inner kingdom. With chinresting upon fingers, and the closing of my eyesbidding my bodies acquiescence to the position of … More A Poem: A Practice