Flourescence Easily Overlooked

A bright star beckons, high to the right. This chalice of sky shaped as a womb; this cupful of dreams dipped into the stream. The desert blooms and I am opening all the way. Whose gazing eye can hold the universe?

Cabbage soup and hefty bread. Tarot and meditation before dawn. Tarot said that some gifts come with a hidden sting. It is the Celt in you which leads to the divination of stones. Is that the lost light? Stones hold a fluorescence easily overlooked.

pocketed stones
carried from home
quiet like falling leaves
between us –
we can touch it
if we want

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In the summer it felt like I didn't sleep for months. I couldn't; I had to follow the river to the mouth before winter. I thought we were walking together.

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November sunsets ignite a fierce magenta if you are lucky enough to witness. Apples finish and wide-eyed owls take over the night watch. Stews and oatmeal replace watermelon and grilled vegetables. All things die back, but the rituals remind one of where they are from, now that they are not from here.

I cook in this quiet house, make a fire, unfold and refold quilts, and read books off my shelf. Where I sleep is a mystery to everyone but me.