Minus Zero

You there?

The arctic night is still,

The great dome of heaven 

Erasing boundary, fear.

Not that I have suddenly become

brave.

I think I know

What the road signs say.

My fingertips are so cold,

Icy in the drafts of the old place,

My toes are cold.

I pile another quilt on the bed

And think about it all.

There is a light faint on the

Horizon as I look from

The bedroom window; 

Bereft, you are not here.

Releasing the winged,

Earlier than is the normal rhythm

The homing pigeons fly,

Roosting as necessary,

And these other worlds arrive. 

They thrive.

As I watch, an unlit,

Landscape sprinkles

In the dark to

White upon the rooftops, and 

The stars begin to shine.

What splendor the waiting world.

What new worlds are simply spinning 

here. 

Maybe they are between the now,

The was, will be.

Among the layered passages in life's 

Book, the ones there in this 

Something that stays with me,

I'll remember 

There aren't necessarily words

To use as markers.

I think the feelings are lovely.
So fine, how the river flows, how 

The springtime comes

And I'll just keep on doing 

What I'm doing.

There's no urgency, just the 

Right-ruddered wheel 

Of love surrounding me

In this icy certainty, with

Its fire, the wholeness of

The center. 

Sleep comes,

Another night I do not wake

Except in dreams.