Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Sensing

Moondrums in my meadow
Echo, echo, how far may I
Lean into an ocean

How to tell apart
A tide from devotion
A dune of sand
From a heap of snow

Can a journey end
In deepest meditation
Are we walking backwards
To find a way to you

In your mighty hand
A rope of light blue sand
Deep dark water
Into deeper, darker sky

Are those punctured leaves
A play of light and shadow
Disassembled sieves
The overarching timeflow
A game we think
To play we understand

A tiny moment slipping
Between sea and land
Someone fought and drowned
Cutting through the threshold
The warrior's blade
Blood in the carvings
The tide in your devotion

Touching without touching
A change of all directions
Sensing
The tide carved into sand