Tuesday, May 11, 2010

meditations as mercury stations direct

How small black birds drink water from crevices in the asphalt at dawn
How grief sits in your belly telling stories and singing songs about sunlight
How the quiet sits on you like a terrible sister
How the redwood orchid erupts from the despair of slash and arrives as would
a smile
How patient longing can be
How survival is no longer the goal but becomes the breath