I need no gift
he says
while peeling carrots.
It is true
for what gift is needed at all?
Still,
tonight he reads
Pirsig’s Zen
again.
In these days
harsh with vengeance
fired by greed
cowering fear
solitary observance
returns to centre
empathy
love and peace.
Loose sweaters
book clingers
rainwalking shoes
star watchers
cloud wishers
temporary blue
day dreamers
midnight seekers
ride
within you.
Side by side
breath by breath
heart rhythm
eastern winds.
Between jack pines
we sway with
homage
flutter,
passage of time.
Morningbird
raindance reels
light stepping rhythm
landing’s challenge between
adornment
from death
emergent life.
Beauty.
Inside stand
stand in wood
if might may wield
they could they would
why not we should
transform
a tree
neat pile
of wood.
Each one,
ending with
Kafka’s fade,
lingers days
whispering deepening
peeling half-speed
to the raw
distracted
gaze.
Just past
Cove and 697
you took your exit
still half-sleeping.
I guess your journey
called for only
half a mattress.
Dusk
that lonely place
between darkness
light’s obscure
distant shroud
present like knowledge
breath just passed
step. waltz. decay.
Photograph
a stranger framed
beaches feature waves
naked wild-eyed fire dogs
freedom dancers
driftwood logs
distant future still
slumbering.
Pencil on paper. Images arise. Message received.