01 February 2015


I want no faith in this lawful
Enormity, and delicate.
Filigreed cradle, spanned
Past conception,
As if a star were the hand of a god.
Yet this immeasurable
Splendor's unconceived, past faith,
It is,
And deity conceived is but a mote in all.

23 January 2015


That wants observation beyond itself:
The observer's dishonest eye,
That mismodels what it sees,
Which is by this observation altered.
What is engaged in the unity
Of observer and observed?
In a wood am I and of it
Too, by this aging heart.

15 January 2015


Emergent in the expect of it,
There you are.
Is love's conjuration real,
A well-lit encounter
That a larger mirror makes
Of my old reflection?
Or just energy, neat,
That phantom everywhere?

03 January 2015


The collapse of this wave
Is where we are now,
Next, who knows?
We'll be there too:
Things are so hurried at the random scale
That two worlds spring up
At one's observation.

11 December 2014

23 November 2014


Light wants darkness to have its breath,
Else it is too fine too draw.
It's organic:
Not of shadows being,
But by them defined,
As a thought's eclipse by circumstance.

11 October 2014


Death's counterpart is time
That measures without a movement,
Organic as breath.
My window on the world
Is a close prison,
A brief hour's view of infinity.