Repeat

Lie here,
and dream with care,
as if all of life
were just chance,
just the flowing memory
of a sleeping god
slowly remembering
gratitude and ferocity,
figuring out
that the only worthwhile fight
is to see,
to really see the peach trees
and plum blossoms
that live in these lines
along a dirt road
rutted by the recent rains,
returning to the sky
and its silken promise of
a beautiful death.

TRACE

Heart Culture