The passage of spirits through time 
describes us; one soul refracted.
What came first, the beat or the heart? 
Of course, they are inseparable
aspects of the same thing. The difference 
between them and epochs of galactic evolution 
amounts to YOU and ME.  This swiftly becomes 
all that we can know about it. Every cell in our 
bodies has captured a drum beat, like a bird 
in a cage, or a hair emerging from a single pore.
The lashes of the eyelids, the glossy vitreous mirror 
of the cornea, pivoting on the center of its own 
self-reflection; the distance between a black hole 
and a star: that's precisely what we are.
Like spun nickels on an iced over pond,

we unfold. Holograms of silver trees
lined up on the looking glass.
Drinking the scene in on our knees
with our vision as moths migrate 
beneath the moon.



for Zane 

Sounds in the attic 
merge with timid 
stirrings from out
doors amid every 
wooden creaking
with just one window 
left open in this old 
house as the curtains  
surge and whisper
like ashen bridal veils 
to impart twilit mystery
sunken in the dark
murmuring unrepeatable 
secrets with the night
already half dissolved 
into hushed dreams where 
rows of pale eggs await



Nature's face 
beneath a caul

Torn away 
revealing all

Born to see
vision's sight

Knowing truth
in the night

Reflecting eye
side by side

Seeing why 
one is copied

Folded twice
along the spine

Read the book
written divine