At the Library

Enveloped in this library, I feel a silent benediction, this quiet womb space that seems to bend and curve and wrap itself around me. I turn a page, stare briefly out at a dark sky, the staggered light of autumn pulling at the edges of myself and gravity. Loud voices interrupt – children home from school, their hopes and fears and dreams mingling with the air where word and synapse intersect; this book opened at just the right place, on the page I missed before, this living being of material fold and neuron, whole galaxies with their yellow moons. So much not yet understood. I read on, the words I can glowing in my head.

above
the streetlights
soft scatter of stars

• Awakening
• haibun
• Haiku
• Light
• Poetry
• Spirituality