There is Morning Fog
Sometimes

There is Illumination
After Noon
Sometimes

If Clarity were Constant-

How would We Know?

Yes, no, I don’t know.
I have only this conviction.
Talking to myself,
something says:
Breathe, don’t look, just fly…

No, don’t go! Stay a while!
Just a second here
and there
it would be a couple of solar years!

Now, you’re not a fish,
You can’t dive into this seductive,
endless abyss. Watch out!

You are a little human
wanting to cross another line,
not to die!

Just one step,
don’t look down!
Your footing—
a necessity of evolution.

Brown buttons everywhere,
like micro decisions
denying free will.

Buzzing sounds from nowhere
imbue air and chords,
so many chords
without a clear solution.

What am I doing?
My assumptions collapse.
Another transformation?

Memory came back
as crumpled paper.
But now,
I have no questions.
I know who I am.
I knew it from the core of my bones.

My awareness
suspended on the tightrope,
it drags forward.

Everything that is born
is born with a piercing sound.
So, I accepted the invitation.

Late October,
and they have assuredly returned.

A canopy of clusters.

At second glance
the leaves on the trees are wings.

Whisper into the dreamscape
for they sense your voice.

Revive them with your breath.

Hold out your hand
like you hold out hope.

The warm sound of flutterings.

Circadian clocks in their antennae,
a sense of where they've been
and where they are going.

The gift from their Creator
moves them in the right direction.

you spoke of dreams,
moments not here,
but lingering just beyond reach.
i see you too—in flashes,
a laugh, a name i never fully said.

i close my eyes,
and there you are,
in the tremble of stars,
the flicker of streetlights,
the hum of midnight waves.

you linger like a soft melody,
always near,
but never enough.
a secret i kept in silence,
carried with every breath.

You and I
Wade knee-deep
In fragrant meadows

Shallow porcelain dish
Survivor of Centuries
Traveller on creaking wooden boat
Shipwrecked and unbroken yet
Barnacled and weeded
Fragility
Sound of a Bell beneath the Ocean

Whales look up, astonished
Decide to beach themselves

Becoming Human,
They will regret the air

100 years
Not enough
To settle into
Wrinkling bag-

No sooner wisdom
Calms the mind

We are found out

And gone