You know that feeling
Of stillness
That can hold
Anything

She visits me often
These days

As the world heaves
And seasons turn
The stillnesss stills

​Like a gift from some
Non-religious heaven
Perhaps nothingness
Is Everything.

I wake at 4
To the sounds
Of the earth crying

​Poetry brewing
Like the day’s
First cup of tea

A single eagle
Circles silently
The final chapters of
A blackened night sky

The sea floor bubbles
As steam rises
From pavements
And parking lots

Rain drops fall
On the surface of
A midnight blue sea

Tears returning
To whence they came

Soon, sunrise
Will make dry
Of everything

Another day of
Trying to Make Sense
Working
While wondering

I listen to my heart beat
Feel the whisper of my breath
Trace the fine grain of my palms
Taste the salt of tears on
My just-woke cheeks

​And let us be held
By the poetry of it all

This Spring,
A sycamore tree
Taught me
That sometimes
To love, is to let go

I watched its seeds
Blow far and free
To places
Where no seed’s light
Could make shadows
Of any other

That sycamore tree
Taught me
To be still
With the love
And the pain
Of this indescribability

The way, in the dead of night
The heart tugs at Reunion
Yet the soul knows
The wisdom of Separation

Piano notes tinkle distantly
Tears trickle down cheeks
Candles burn their final wax
Children leave parents
Parents leave children
Geese fly in V-formations
On mystery lilac skies

And the sycamore tree
Just breathes
As its seeds
Let each other go
With love

A flicker of light
Tracing a silhouette of you
Against the sparkling night sky

Sadness, yes sadness
But not just that

Vastness, like the cosmos
Stillness, like the core of a Redwood
Love, rich and deep like…
Everything

A flicker of light tracing
The wholeness of you
Onto the wholeness of me
Beautifully together and
Lovingly apart

Hands touching
In the quietest
Breath of night

Without words
We step out
Into the woods.