standing on the knoll
between firs and clouds
it was jarringly quiet

my breath
was the loudest element
in my landscape

at first I tried to quiet myself
slowing my breath
to join the hush
of beautifully cold winter
but then I chose another way
to fit into the day

I opened my heart
and laughed into the sun

I think creatures
sleeping underground
felt a joyful rumble
and the wind laughed with me

which vessel
will you choose
to carry tears?

will it be the same
cracked stoneware
holding yesterday’s crumbs?

how ever many steps
away from center
it’s so very quiet,
the thunder is my own pulse
raging aural Morse code

home is
what’s behind a thin curtain
between aerial drops
and orchestral pause

limited wandering
pulled on a string,
bells toll the quarter hour
keeping less time
more stricture

snowflakes come to rest
on firs’ soft needles
swaying as a night breeze
turns them to glisten in starlight

sleeping eyes
smooth, even breath
lone plaintive song of an owl
lingers high in the hills

quiet adoration
as winter covers the forest
coolly glowing blue
with last light before dawn

covered in leaves
I still know
all I need
the blue, the eyes
where we began

learned in wine
sweet and old
tracks of clouds
bled into berries
folded into our cup

we spilled patterns
perfect in disarray
climbing our mountain bed
filled, we belong

spread our arms
opened eyes
pine and hemlock
behind windy cliffs
our echoes, joy

not to die
blown to life
conquered rivers
walking above fire
where we began