Dearth

Busy, the humming insights,

The reordering in my head of

Those important reverberations 

Upon opening into 

Light, unexamined pathways

I begin to wonder 

I might say 

Wander toward, into a

Strange question:

Are your ponderings

The way a woman like you

Sensibly reflects,

Or are they a little daft?

Perhaps so. 

But what do we know of 

Beyond peril, of some kind of 

Wholeness if 

The spacings that

Shake off conventions

Don’t mean anything?