listening for the one who cares
this morning
running up flagstaff mountain
i actually thought
i saw the ocean
off to the left
a distant mirage of
unconsciousness and
uncertainty
in this land-locked state
after a double-take
i realized how this custom
of leaving myself
lands and lodges in my core
still learning not to
muscle my way through what works
just engaging out of habit
now knowing it’s the subtle adjustments
that make the most impact
on my descent
a baby deer was waiting for me
we locked eyes and
he let me get quite close
who are you i said
tears rolling down my cheeks
he can sense
everything i feel
i know his pain
yet cannot save him
in these moments
nature is the chime
sounding the end of
meditation practice
to wake me up
in the present
but i am not
a nature poet
so i don’t know which
metaphors to use
most mornings i wake
while everyone else is still sleeping
and allow myself to think of him
as the sky slowly brightens
the land is still dark
trees in silhouette
against the early morning sky
i send him love and light
it is really only
ever about
time of day
and the passage
of night
but i am not a nature poet
though as we cross country
the horizon
a portal
opening up
right in front of us
port of entry
transforms into
po e try
an adjustment period
coast to coast
this portrait of real personal markings
soft brushed color
deckled edges and draping
hide the cracking
i notice my past
pulling away from me
while i watch it in reverse
in the rearview mirror
cairns tracing the trail
from my ribcage
through my navel
to my pelvis
signaling where
the relationship
of one thing to another
ends
why is it
we only have language
for grief over the loss of the dead
but not for the loss
of those still living
some days
being
is all in service
of that one single breath
rising and falling
unconstricted
unrestrained
unencumbered
unattached
free
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