I did not let the word
sink all the way in,
I covered the page too soon.
Now I wander around
thirsty for the rest of it,
all through this tree town,
Dendropolis, looking up,
looking down, watching
the gutters gushing with
the crystal clear waters
of what the word meant.
4 February 2021
I had no dreams last night
so have nothing to report
except the weather
yet I’ve never been able
to chant with all the intelligent
reverence it deserves
the uncanny mystery of snow.
So what shall we talk about now?
Somehow we are children
still in the nursery
and every thing we see
is a window onto something else.
There, that’s something said,
something transcendent.
Never doubt the word that comes.
It is the portal of the temple,
open door to love’s boudoir.
1 February 2021
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