In the stationary silence
I seek answers that already
lie at me feet.

I look for skies that already
fill my vision.

And I seek truth to my purpose
that has played out for hundreds of years.

What hands move the pieces in this universe?
What hands guide the universes along the surface
of the vast oceans and between each grain of sand?

Two videos from early Christmas Day with crystal blue skies, strong wind, and below 0 temperatures.

The following are excerpts from a new piece I am writing called “Sand Shadows”.


Excerpt #2

Grey sky meets the field
past the mountain range,
past forest and beyond
the fertile waters.

One bowl I carry
down dusty roads,
scattered snow fills
my bowl enough to drink.

Children run from yipping dogs
chickens waiting for dinner
watchful of hiding coyotes.

Who carries the lantern
across the meadow?

Who follows the river
from mouth to delta?

Who is standing at the
wrought iron gate?

Excerpt #1

Sitting at the stone table across
from an empty setting – the
space is filled with grains of sand.

I have no recollection of where these
may have come from, no memory of arriving here.

The sky is grey and swollen, and I fear the
wind arriving before I remember.

From http://pushpinpictures.blogspot.com/2012/06/sand-wedgies-and-wind-burns.html
From http://pushpinpictures.blogspot.com/2012/06/sand-wedgies-and-wind-burns.html

The following is from a new piece I am writing called “Sand Shadows”.


Sitting at the stone table across
from an empty setting – the
space is filled with grains of sand.

I have no recollection of where these
may have come from, no memory of arriving here.

The sky is grey and swollen, and I fear the
wind arriving before I remember.

From http://pushpinpictures.blogspot.com/2012/06/sand-wedgies-and-wind-burns.html
From http://pushpinpictures.blogspot.com/2012/06/sand-wedgies-and-wind-burns.html