The Blue Book


It lay on the dinner table between us,
right there as you spoke, anam cara,
of your over-active imagination.

All our memories just drops of eternity
crystalized in time’s flow,
a toothless pilgrim with a flashlight
and a startled owl frozen in its beam.

Do you see the water bending our
love round dreams of wood stoves
and pancakes and kindness, brother?

Before the final no, that yes:
that yes to letting go,
to setting loose the river,
flowing endlessly into sea

((((((( )))))))

See that wave in the tablecloth?
We are awash in the infinite always,
you and I - castaway - miraculously.



Of the sun