The excursion
A dust-shape drifting through drifts of snow
down a worn path to temporary shelter.
Escape by plunging into life –
this is the practice given to me.
Not fanciful ideas of life –
a barbed fence at the property’s edge,
but walking out onto the lake, the ice thinner
the farther I get from shore,
as I glide and slip into next-to-nothing
in this floating world timeless and invulnerable.
When I break through at last,
they tell me, suddenly,
I will become nothing and everything
at the same propitious moment but right now
the excursion is simply everything, nothing
and enough; more than enough.
O child of God, who is there to hear you
above the wind’s icy roar?
Really nice, Brian. Especially "above the wind's icy roar." Keep goin' man.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Mick!
DeleteYou got it, man,
ReplyDelete