I was actually snow this year,
for a while,
gray and blood cold.
Then like a wonder hunter
found the grand aerial
superstructure again.
Came back to praise
the vaster side of things:
aspens in the dreamfields
prayers in the snowfields
not a sorrow in the heart
Home
to the moonlight internal
like a soft winged bird
in rapture
falling out of time, out of time.
The veil lifted.
Grace descended.
I saw myself
as I stood
looking skyward
watching everything leave
just to arrive.
0 comments:
Post a Comment