I live my life in the in-between—
Between surf and shore,
Amid each rising and setting of the Sun,
As one dream bleeds into the next,
Arising from unconscious depths at night.
I walk through each season,
Knowing whatever lines are drawn
Between fall and winter, spring and summer,
Are not real, though my face stings
From snowflake to pounding rain to winds that blow,
Sand in eyes causing tears to flow.
And so is the journey of my life—
Stumbling upon every stone on the path,
Each stone precious though it may
Cause me to fall, losing balance.
Losing is a central chapter in the book,
Almost every achievement but a marker
Among many loses, each gathering
More than matched by scattering.
Yet still I love the world!
Each death bitterly stings as I turn away
Only to find the wind also shifts,
Pushes me, insistent in its urging,
Soundless voices that I daily question,
Wondering how I might reconcile each loss,
Perceive a road from true affections.
Only when I stop to look behind
Can I count deserted camp-sites,
Fires dwindling, ashes rising from hot coals
Still burning in memory against dark nights.
Those times I kneel to pray,
Hope to gather strength, to hear distant elders—
Perhaps whispers from the Nameless God….
Revel in moment of brief joy
Before the wheel turns yet again.
All I know is that I know I am not
What I once was… The crooked road
From which I have strayed,
Has a complexity that advances
Toward unseen horizon. Whether I am alone
Or there are angels hidden in mist or shadows—
I cannot say for certain. Though I blunder,
Stumble though each day, I still walk
Unsteadily with the given strength,
Trusting this winding path
Is where I need to go, each step
A step of slow transformation—
Though even Moon is covered by clouds,
My breath still full of longing for full Light.