moving or in stillness
right action can flow
hear it traverse along the songlines
our hearts sang to us
even before we were born
moving or in stillness
right action can flow
hear it traverse along the songlines
our hearts sang to us
even before we were born
what the eyeballs did while waiting in line at the Roundhouse, July
I lean to pick it up
as shattered glass on the floor
painting reflected bluest blue
brightest blue
clouds floating edge to edge
a promise in litany
rolling mantra
eight miles and infinity
counting on both hands
eyes drawn by
the real sky