it is there for u there
always
for you to touch
when it comes
as light/or spray/or
like a veil
of grace or thought /as
ego of insight/or
heart
like always
the thread touches/like always
the radiance before
u did not tell me
to know
the art of youth except for all
the years
it does not matter
had i seen better/touched
the radiance of
a/nother
self/the radiance
of self/my
self
mornings
the sun rises
behind the hospital on the edge
of the city it rests
in the east—
a safe place/haven/zone of love
in combination w/the dawn/this
dimension of light/as always
this realm of sight
sometimes
happens w/o
knowing/sometimes
remembers
the drive
to be/hears
cells
clapping
along the rim
of bloom
b/t
dawn
&
sun
set
the hospital knows
its limits the mask of whispered
truth molded
&
placed in
side the ear of
one
who erects
the scaffolding. he sees
the one
who builds
the day
before/the one who
built the day be
fore that/the one who
tears it all down
before
any
of them
knows
each
other/or hears what they
have seen none
can save
the scaffolding/or
the light
if no one knows its age
or where it comes from
memory casts no shadow
on old figures
rising
out of dawn
like ashes scattered
a-cross fields of blooming
asters the light
willing once/always known/always
silent
delivers
the wound
of birth
b/t
entry
&
exit the door opens
once
&
closes/only once
presents the choice/only
once/if it were more.
if only there were more. Today
I am not
my/self
knowing
neither time nor
place/the egg of fear/the crack
of door/angels
frolicking
she inserts the coin
into the slot
&
feeds
her wealth
thru the archway
of matter
&
yields her shape
of color &
touch/u can hear
the coins
in the tumble
of gold
woods &
meadow
