periphery: 2014

Today/light on my wall from between curtains

Against the shaded umber of my
clean apartment walls

This morning through curtained windows one narrow

Eye of sun has stolen, and

Yes, without my glasses becomes
obscured and whimsical,

These things do:

Moment of cherry blossoms releasing
to a breeze,
dandelion seeds, sure; or

Muted stars from

turning painter’s careless arm

Cast widely toward the shadows;
delicately drifting

And only just

Aglow.

I never know what today will bring:

Survival, surrender, realization

Each morning is a mystery met in the dark

And I, forever known by blundering,

befuddled, fumbling; a stupor
as settles about me,

often

and still,

Harrowed by

Its easy gifts of

Open windows

blank pages

daylight,

I, as always,

Listen,
counting the exceptions

and repetitions,

hopeful by a history occasioned once

by coalescence,

And wait.

My meditation is a braided yarn:

Yeoman’s work of the mind.

I’ve been sorting and weaving

Thoughts all morning, but silent

As a gently moving shaft of light, this one
appears:

I am not easy with myself,

And I never have been happy here,
Not really.

And, yes, perhaps today…

periphery