Pangaea

Within old soils there is no age, no strife.
Buds, branches, bulbs and
Primeval knowing move in
Unattended rhyming with
Each change of space, each season,
The breaking apart coming from
Tides and stars, destiny
Not of your intent,
For now, though, you do not have to move
From your homeostasis.

It has come at some cost.

There will be respite when
You return to mystery,
When life will be nothing more
Than what it was that
You have told.

Wane

Out in the great dark
The crescent moon suspends, 
Portending gibbous

Four elements scramble 
For the balance that once was
Just as sure as cranes 
Landing on the braided river

Wisdom and continuity
Don't come cheap, and
What seem like just some
Little prices paid 
Might become unbearable

In the night, solitude hums, 
You look at the vast sky
And you think of all the 
Crossers of the borderlands,
Their tears watering the ancient
Ground of being 

You wrest uncertain words from a new night,
As the fog floats across the ushering moon, and 
You promise to keep trying
Even though 
You will be gone before
You'll know. 

French Inhale

When we were small, well
When we were between
Old child and teen

We stole our father's cigarettes
To learn the ways of life

And other things,
Rebelling I suppose,
Practicing the smoke

And little did I know
So many decades on
That this maneuver that
I'd learned

Would give me pause
One long night
Not knowing much of
Anything
Not even for sure that
Spring was coming.

But looking at it all
Head on
What I pull back to me
I attend to
Life won't last forever
And some things might happen
Maybe not.
But it's all of a fine circle
And as I watch,
Remembering,
The knowing and the shadows
Curl