In the velvet void—
January sky, songless,
days pass, ears empty.

The taproot knows it:
sending life out above ground,
living in the dark.

The light on this beach
is still on me years later,
caught in these grasses.

Lost fraternity:
one needs the other one more,
one gives it away.

The resolve that’s lost,
the songless days and grey skies,
there is no right path.

Wabi sabi: imperfect

Here and then they’re gone,
these things aren’t really mine,
like stars in my hands.

Wabi sabi: impermanent

I am not complete,
I will never be complete,
like a breaking sky.

Wabi sabi: incomplete

Moon out at midnight,
wound up in restless dreaming,
I imagine it.

The December grey,
in this last week of the year,
trying to find light.

There is light inside
the pull of the hidden moon,
the flowing river.

An alternate life:
the trying for something more,
seeking and searching.

We walk the river,
a bufflehead swims and dives,
we find trees chewed down.

Sunrise behind clouds,
the shortest day of the year,
light because of dark.

Day after solstice,
we creep back towards the light,
the seed in our minds.

A bittersweet bloom,
some of the only color
on this cold, grey day.

The last light of day,
anointed in this forest,
your absence, your smile.

Meaning is somewhere:
rearranged every day,
sometimes known, sometimes…

Consequential things—
the otherworld in this world,
learning the beauty.

We go in again,
changed by it every time:
proof of life, so close.

In my hands then gone,
these stars that fell overnight,
falling all day long.