And We Ask


After the storm,

light sings


in a language of if,


and dreams shine

like the sun through shadows–


gardens must sleep

but time urges us to run


(from, over, to)


and the wind whispers

a thousand whys


(here, there)


rocks chant when,

as the moon watches in beauty


spraying cool diamond music–

a symphony of I am–


and we askβ€”

who, how, and what is?


Screen Shot 2019-03-30 at 8.48.48 AM

The Oracle made me work this morning. She’s being enigmatic again–sending me out to question the universe–but I suppose that is what poets do.

29 thoughts on “And We Ask

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