Friday, December 1, 2023

If words create worlds

These words go forth in a random syncopatic stream

Swirling circles around a deep dark sphere

Straddling circumferences with ropes of hope

To hoist up and out and through concave to convex

A heart a chest a torso turned inside out

Remade into a fortress, a temple, a city on a hill

Destroying itself

Renaming itself

With relentless tides of forgiveness and fear

Settling into the sediment of gritty sand and puddle

Smoothing out like mortar dropped from the trowel

Thunks of thought and remembering

To weight and root and ground

The this-ness of eternity

(Addendum 11.25.25)

And This a new reality

Wounded hands healing

Pushing past perfunctory performance

To a Way of Willing With-ness

Once hardened ground into Gardens

Transform.