do you know who i am
who speaks within your head
do you know who i am
whose voice is fire instead
of the cool water you wish it was
pay no close attention
to the man behind the brow
the man who steers the ship
from upon this darkened prow
he is none of your concern
he is a whisper fading
falling behind the daily noise
a watcher of silent repute
a shadow figure of frenzied poise

You cannot lose someone in time

For they are the air surrounding;

Ever-present, always now, then,

                                                   And will be;

There they are forever

Where they have always been

Where they will always be

As are you

As are we

I’m of a mind of shepherds today

Of those rare few who protect

Rather than consume;

I’m of a mind of Francis today

Who i wote to regularly

Of the abuse I met at the hands

Of one of his own

And he never wrote back

But i’d like to think

Maybe he read those emails;

I’m of a mind of the dead today

Of a man who moved the needle

Maybe just a little bit

And nudged a billion people forward

How much more could any of us

Ever hope to do

This is a day of scents

Like stepping into a cloud of thyme

As we hiked to the valley river

Like stepping into an Italian kitchen

And we wondered at this surprise gift

As we listened to the water chattering

There was lemon and ginger

Drifting in the air during dinner

And later chocolate peppermint tea

As we struggled to stay awake until bed;

It was a day to breathe in and taste

A day to simmer quietly in.

The days fly away

Like white fluff dandelion seeds

In a sudden summer breeze

Gone away and invisible

Against a too bright sky

Lost except to memories

The clouds are spaced evenly

White cotton against painted blue

A mid-century, wall-papered sky

Like my mum might have laid out

Perfectly overlapped with no lines

Bright to bring the dark to light

I imagine her hands

Pressed to the heavens

Simply to bring joy to me

Though all might look up

And in doing so see

That I was loved

These words are safe

And so they are

Meaningless

Empty, vacuous puffs

That fly lightly away

Like a cat’s breath in winter

Drifting to the iron skies

Unnoticed and invisible

Simply signifying life

I feel it

The tide is rolling in

The dry and empty sands

Are vanishing beneath

And I

I will ride the waters out to sea

Watching the stars turn overhead

Witnesses to one like them

Who drifts in a constellation

A myriad of bright humanity

We are fireflies against the dark

Signaling existence to one another

There is no sacred thing

There is no holy thing

There is only

This maddening impossibility

This display of improbability

That is life and love and matter

And so

Perhaps

These things are sacred

These things are holy

Somehow