The Unseen Place

A cask of moonwater, now what? I no longer confess to priests because they do not deserve even my castoffs.

She who is subterranean – and yet – watches the wind carrying leaves up the street like a parade. I was accessed from the unseen place and guided from there. A river carves a channel or bends around the immovable and seems to be shaping a life. But that illusion is not the dowery of our being! From that day, that one, ever-unfolding-moment, a rushing hiss still in my ears – the water, my heartbeat, the exit of time.

A record skipping – real? Not real? – begins an acoustical fade. To give oneself over to the meaning of Love is more simple than it seems.

Place and time becomes a meaningless belief. We join in this to save the world.

And now, snow! Long spandex leggings, a winter coat, and gloves to walk the dog. The amethyst I used to wear. Purple kale I pinched from the potted plant outside the restaurant. Winter glides closer under the veil of wood smoke.

My body can no longer serve two masters. Dylan and God say it straight. What is desired above all else?

Saffron light suggests no gap. Who am I to hide in the abyss?