Archive for July, 2010
From the Next Room
Sometimes I am in
another room of my self.
Closing a door
behind me,
Bending toward
the window light
the breathing of
big and little beings
sound their quiet gong before me
To them I bring
this throated gourd of language
offered to a wren’s nest
there, stitched into a tree
to an old woman’s forehead
tipped towards the ground
to a sudden skittering
of leaves
where there were none
to the weightless amber body
of a worker bee pinned in
the corner of this window screen
by dust, and
nudged by the plain
omniscient air, which
by itself
can make the mind wander
to your own weightlessness
to your pinned in native tongue
to your own eye
and the door knob at the center
My hand is on the door knob
It is not easy to make the turn
for both am I here and am I going
following the quiet bells of being
singing of almost anything at all