Where the attention to love
and break
comes from, I do not know—
so I took a few months off
to lose myself
and the tide came all the same.

I was told attention without
feeling is simply a report—
my wide eyes and open palms
give reports each day to
the world, my life.

I wish to stay near the water.
I risk tidal waves, disaster—
I risk inspiration.

I am the tides pulling the water—
great loves and quiet epiphanies.

This experience is mine
yet it could have been yours.

—a life is much richer with spirit

a.k.

She was never one to worry
About the rain—
Rather softening her heart
To a hundred lilies
Seemed more worth her while.

Somber alleluias echo
From the garden gates
Offering peace and
Honest praise

Unaccompanied by doubt,
We whisper to the wind,
Let me be like the lilies
—unrivaled by the rain.

Alleluia. Alleluia. Alleluia.

a.k.

I pause.
I listen for the lessons I have learned—
The lessons that incessantly grasp for me—
I listen for the lessons but only hear the birds—
They sing a new piece—
Wherever you go, you go too.

There is a prelude of my company—
How It Is one that is good to keep.

A bridge so enthralling, one might
Miss the ripples of water

Oh, the water—

Today it is so clear
one might forget how brilliantly it gleamed—
with convoluted glory.

Standing on my precipice—
I bask in my sun.

I pause.

Singing back at the birds—
Where Is my prize for escaping un-burned?

a.k.

I wrote a poem for you and
For the bird up in the tree—
I have learned he does not believe
I know his melody

I let the bird sing
I let my eyes see,
Not assuming each word has charge,
Is revolutionary

Let me say it again,
Let me quick write it down—
I am not one to believe in the unseen
And still I pray

each night for eyes that will
See
You with fresh eyes and
Grace for the time remorse
Did not arrive

My coastal dreams
Are now past—
My tenderness made new

Let me say it again,
Let me quick write it down—

I wish to be the bird in the
Tree
Transcended from a human
Lens let me land on
Vulnerable precarities

a.k.

After the clouds have bowed,
The sun caresses my face—
Finches cry out their melody,
And daffodils awake once

Again let me grasp peace
like a perennial
Let me carry a tune of praise—
For the nights I ached,
to hold these simple days.

a.k.