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