ABSENCE

Absence is a lost langage
inaccessible to the present.
Memories arise like a mirage
and the answer to each question
is no answer, although each unknown feather
that falls tips the balance of world .

Absence is a langage reflected
on waves, foam fragile as silhouettes
of angels blown by the wind,
an illusion held somewhere in the past
we shared.

Where do they go, all those lost words,
names, symbols, leaving behind the plea
of take me with you to your bright
forever ?

BECOMING

There is always resistance to change,
the pursuit of perpetual growth,
becoming being like the moon’s
relentless phases as night gently
prints itself on world.

Soft rain falls like new thoughts
on fields dancing with spring.
What was there before and gone
is becoming once again.

Clouds drop flushed notes
on the vapor of the air,
bubbles over river pebbles
form, break, and form again.

Becoming is a song not yet heard,
melodies promising wishes  of
unknowingness.

Becoming lies just under that
thin layer of life, those infinitely
precious seconds before what is
to be.