Thursday, March 02, 2006

I Am Busy Becoming


These empty spaces
like unlived miracles now
as dusk’s shadows fall.

What we substitute
for certainty at day’s end
is only silence.

Let this flow outward—
darkness we have long inhaled,
carry it no more.

Daylight comes northward
up the highway and into
this wintered valley.

I look upward once,
this shadowed year of waiting
late birds may yet come.

Beneath the chill earth
I am without a body
part of everything.


Anonymous said...

Oh my goodness! How I DO enjoy this one. Lovely!

MB said...

Oh. Beautiful!


Bill said...

Once again, you stun me.

Anonymous said...

I felt breath skim across my cool skin, raising the flesh.. Nice!


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