what was held and dropped and lost

and still is always there. I swear I feel

eight and eighty at once. And you?

I pray you are well loved.

We are fallen limbs drifting apart

on the lake of nights, except as

moonlight paints our lives.

In the Back of the Eye

IN THE BACK OF THE EYE

When I had cancer and Grandma died,

that silent explosion sent her away and

deeper into me at the same time. When

the sun came up behind that mountain

on the way to Santa Fe, I somehow knew

it was safe to creep back into the world.

And when afraid in every direction, the only

place my heart could chew was in the meadow

of now. It’s as if we carry a very soft emblem of

the fire of life way inside, in the back of the eye,

and we’re hardened to keep it from going out.

Then one day a bird we’ve never seen pokes

at the window and we think nothing of it

but everything within us knows it’s time.

And the hardened places start to crack and

the heart stirs from its waking sleep. And all

the softness we’ve carried since birth is suddenly

at the mercy of wind and rain. Now

when I see you rubbing your hand, I feel

all the things you’ve held. Now when I see

the snow cover the trees, I hear the story

of every tree. Now I’m forced to love every

walking statue until the thing trapped

inside can find a way out.

In the Sea of Others

IN THE SEA OF OTHERS

It’s next to impossible to do this

alone. We need the loving truth of

others to be well. Inevitably, some

come with us and are forever changed

while others watch as we’re forced

out to sea. It’s the power of love that

enables those who come along,

where a language of experience

is unearthed that can’t be translated

to those who stay behind.

Moonglow

MOONGLOW

The moon on the frozen elm

was a lick of Eternity that said, You

will go soon enough. Linger with

me. And so I did. I stood there

till the cold crept into my boots

and the moon spilled up my face.

The thin blue shadows on the

snow were so bright it seemed

a day had stayed on to tame the

darkness from getting darker.

Then a sacred space opened

that I can’t quite explain.

Chores

CHORES