Clarity Intermissions.png

Something in our snarled overlap invites clarity, and I


want to affirm

this beauty. 


Urged to stop, wondering 

at the odd density 

of work, the eye skips, crosses plains:


A mandala. An invitation. Surveying

variegation, at each level, we sit, for a while,

before moving on.


We know this land. We know what comes after. We know

it contained water,

descending through gradations


toward the present. In the present, everything


is not-now. There is no negotiation with the past

and no truce. Time is crowded with negation – what can be discerned 

and what will not, ebbing


below the reach of correspondence, 

as a lake dreams of sky,

demonstrating that the dream has no face.


It is only a reflection of water,

a vision of diving. 



on dying upright, 

we are surrounded


by slow dissolving sky.