for Richard
We are
a level plain –
calm pond of water:
a sense of subtle gain
accrues. I sit with you:
your views are habitable.
There is no strain –
except what comes, light,
in refrain: our noticing,
and noticing, the gentlest
ripples ‘round
the lotus flower
that might as well be us
and ours when we convene.
I twiddle fingers
in-between
and sing and hum a bit:
you tell me stories
that go on a bit: breaths
abate and swell.
All is well.
.
No comments:
Post a Comment