top of page

Weaver Woven

Like the waves of the sea and winds from the mountains

The past and Presence rise to meet me.

Grief, gnowledge, knowing, impatience

To be heard and seen again through

Clear windows to wisdom, without glass ceilings or separations of space or generations.

They rise to meet me in this auspicious occasion of remembrance.

In a gentle flow, a crashing of atoms so fierce my breath and body

Give way into the nothing of their everything. And together

we rise, we weave.

0 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All


Firmament...Say it out loud Doesn't it sound when it rolls from the tongue like something solid underneath the feet A place that births bursts of light, sweet green things? The kind of thing or place


bottom of page