Until the Very Last Breath
When we look at death’s door it looks like nothing at all Blank and featureless a serious expression on a featureless face tha…
A Flourish of Time
A flourish of time and a life is complete
with its circles and straight lines
somehow converging at a
vanishing point
attended by woolen-clad angels awhirl in
blue ponds of vertical air
singing songs of ancient traditions and
neighboring galaxies beyond
human translation
yet we know their crystalline meanings
if not here and now at least in
far-off echoes past those hills in
distant outline where
other suns shine and other
moons catch their silvery rays
8/6/11 6 Ramadan (from Ramadan is Burnished Sunlight)
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