unbounded, indifferent space
the sun, the moon, the stars
this silver globe of sky
each cloud, each breath
of wind, these mountains
the sea, all creatures and every
impossible flower, all
of this is me — the loss
of a single leaf, a breath
the death of a single bird
and I am forever
altered. “it is me”
the old monk said “but I
am not it.” this vast
and luminous sky, this empty
tender heart of sadness.
why, she asked, must it always
be so very, very sad?
With each exhalation,
you give birth to the very world
so breathe gently love, move
carefully, the less we know
the closer we come. The planting now
is done, the circle is formed
the singing at last begun.
In the fields across the road, the cows
slowly begin to dance
© 2015 jafink/oldbones.newsnow.com