cedar smoke. mesas. the cranes will come back.

strange that a naked mind is here at all.

wisdom turns to dust and dust becomes wisdom.

simple language holds meanings yet to come.

 

simple is what always was.

through cracks in the ceiling

i hear footsteps of moss on the roof.

 

where are we going? how many times? washed by salt 

and tides. we are stained from what has been too much

to bear. souls grown thin. mists obscuring the missing whole.

 

it's the way of a house to wait.

for the sake of the traveler who never returns.

words gather time. the wounds of life unravel.

 

the mirror knocks. no one answers.

the son dies carrying his mother.

through the name inscribed on leaded glass

flares light older than fire.

 

heron :: how does life become one

 

in the bowl

in her hands

heron sky

 

snowflake melts.

path's completed.

somewhere darkness flowers.

 

when lips are long closed :: memory must breathe through skin

***

some forget to breathe and dream :: ways of seeing fall like leaves

 

plum tree dead.

sighs in the wind that have not known being human.

thin is the wall that separates us.