Simmering beneath my skin
and the infinite air
is the unflawed unmistakability
of abiding attachment
and the penetrating silence
of an unfinished song.
To live
with awakened expectations
is startling.
To drift languidly
without them is
darkness deferred.
Between the past and future,
in the middle of a life
lost not to twilight,
is a flowing heart
and a burning spirit
shining brightly like sun
and moon on
seasoned shards
of crystal silence.
At times I feel,
in a moment of lucidity
and wide-eyed wonder,
that it is enough
not to be all enough,
if only to savor
the poetry of passion
in and out
of the life
inside me.
