things align.


Yes, I’ll wait while you

knock on wood

and give me that look like


now you’ve done it.

Now you’ve invited that other shoe

and the sky, falling,

and that single bolt of smoking, shocking loss,

always in need of a target.

Yes, I remember.

We learn early that joy

is dangerous.

There is so much space

where it is not.


Come here.

Forget about the planets,

the words that alarm,

the dread you prefer.

Between the shadows, the moonlit world

is luminous.

Snowbanks drip with cream.

Meadows flash and glitter, like the sky.

The icy tideline, vast and crusted, glows.

You can trust this light.

It is your own.


Choosing to stand within the darkening

requires fear,

not just courage.

We all get bloodied, in the shadows.

It is in that breaking

that we are broken open.


Watch as the mountains brighten

at your return.

The land rises, gleaming,

 the tide rushes to follow.

We are each of us this spinning, blazing


aligned, tethered,


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