When we abandon temples to walk onward in the furious snow.
The messiah floats between sky and ground – a man on his back in the blue-green sea, a snowflake teasing out the masterpiece, ash climbing on woodsmoke.
A single verse flickers above the wind. I stay awake listening to it drop. Parchment leaves. Jay feathers. Pine cones. Snow drifting over rotting fences.
In the dream of stillness, a monk stands in darkness listening to a faraway train weep further and again, further. She casts her mindfulness unto the minor chord, letting out the line as needed. Stone by stone the monastery becomes unnecessary.
We helped him bury his pet and the entire world fell into that hole. A child's pain magnified in his mother's heart. In the ache I am startled to stop and see. Can I vow to never arrive as his source of pain? Who we love, first.
we take our leave / another way / from hand to hand / for the legion and for one / resist