Day, Breaking


What we want is what we want
as we leave behind the shine

of darkness, the road of stars
across the night. There is

a chill in the air, hardness
at the heart of things. There is

the pain of silence as we hope
for words and morning sky.

What we get is another
fragile day holy with

promise of farther light.





Which Would You Believe


Because the world is falling apart
time cannot go backwards.

Because all things fall down
we must give up on hope.

Because we are only an image
on the skin of the universe

there will be no return.
Yes, the sun comes up again.

Yes, the birds sing, sing some more.
Yes, there is such a thing as love.

But which would you believe?
The stars, or your lying eyes?





These Elementals


These elementals — water, the light
spun like morning wind in the grasses,
the grasses, the stones. Oh, yes, the stones.

We are not what we think we are.
The stars know that. All night they tell us
all things come again to nothing.

That we could be the stones, knowing
what they know of folly. That we could
be the grasses, withered in winter fields.

Permanence and transience. Of these
comes the lesson we must endure,
comes the wisdom that is of use.





Monk's Journey


Wind
behind him

with wings.

The land
with his return

his blessing.





Lilacs

​
O, let the lilacs
come like a dream,

like a ghost, a wind
invading the house.

Not their color but
the frank scent of them,

their marveled breath
lifting us up with hope.

O, to know spring has
finally come and

summer waits for no one.