Gathered at the Sill

Let go of you.
Discard me.

To be two entities is to forget. It is to stare at the river and see division instead of unification. It is to neglect how west eventually meets east.

One seeks pleasure and another self-mortification. In both cases, the temperance of coherence is neglected. To seek at all is to forget allowance. To hold onto either is to live in opposition.

*

Sunlight slants towards the sleeping dog and tickles the shoulders of houseplants gathered at the sill. The din of leaf blowers is constant now, only ending hours after dark. For that reason, the silence of snowfall becomes my impatient wish.

icy moonlight
shaping uneven shadows
this snowy moor of jewels

Poetry is something you release or unearth while writing it. You meet it when it arrives on the page. Our lives are like that – our relationships – our grounding. I think sometimes we write the poetry or chase the relationship instead of opening unto what is already alive and flowing.

You don't do the writing; language does.
You don't create the relationship; Love does.

*

The red bird steaks away from the feeder with a snappy flutter, barely above a whisper. How I now prefer the quiet unity of hope in all living beings.