This is left

A White Box waiting between what’s to come and fulfillment


A Lurch

Headlong into the void into light sensed



A Rocking

of the gentle swell of waves cradling a grave



A Scourge

 on the planet of lesser forms disappearing



Love Pulling

by the lasting hope of love achieved

at last fronted from the back of light, light itself



Oh how long you have waited for this moment just before breaking to be love, love itself



A Relic

from the future past gaining meaning

where meaning is insignificant and surpassed, surpassing itself


A Task

from the stooping effort to a heroic call

on the knees of time bending, bending itself


A Vision

like an inverted image flying past

so high and so close it feels right, right against itself



Love Pulling

Like the joy of a joy so quickly found

it takes death away into belief, belief itself

This is left

A Red Box that has always been here waiting to be opened




A Scraping

of the sound made when the last vibration fades

into the unsounding from where it arose, arising itself



A Take Off

on the last runway in the morning light

into a setting sun rising in the west of forgotten sorrow, sorrow against itself



A Print

of a lantern on a woman’s shirt

showing the outline of a time to arrive, arriving itself



A Fruit

with the flower on the inside waiting to be revealed

on the next to last day running, running against itself



A Tool

invented out of nothing before a need

owned by no one for all to share, sharing itself



A Connoisseur

of water turning into light, sound, waves, the essence and not knowing

the symbol of beholding and belonging in unbroken unity, unity itself




Love Pulling

As only love can as you and I and all merge into one

in this vast moment of now is born a new love, New Love itself



This is left