i am aging. fewer leaves. thin skin. thick bark

in other places. tending the fire none can keep inside.

breath is the mystery that must survive.

 

if a stone

one struggles

against vanishing

 

when the tea cup cracks, look within.

when unburdened of rose, thorns bleed.

beneath my hands the axe splits open.

what comes alive when the last word is spoken?

 

a voice from the box in the closet.

wooden angels. heavy wooden hands.

knots on the faces of trees. dreams.

the withering power that broods deep inside a seed.

 

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.

 

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.

 

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