Monday, January 6, 2014

Blink of the Moon

There's something simple
in the twilight of coming
just this.

 The way the moon blinks
long and slow
just above the horizon.

Or the mirror the tide makes
pulling out and in
the stretch of reflection
that blurs the shore.

Dancing with the blur,
my mind licks the shore
of things as they are

Perception recedes
leaving the luminous
bare and open

Tentatively, I touch
one finger to the
raw nature of
my mind

And find that
having a finger
makes no sense