Pods

I sit on a black cushion

and wonder

if the electric pulses I feel

are lightbody healers

transmuting energy through the crevices

we have created

with our breaths

to make us whole again.

I rest my head on a pillow

and imagine

if the infinite impulses I feel

are silver starseed-pods

traveling through the spaces

we have scattered

with our monkey mind

to make us live again.

~

Particles of Light

You awaken to the sun’s warmth

while I shed my threadbare skin

underneath the full moon and wait

for the red-crowned crane to take flight.

I falter through the autumn leaves

while you retreat atop a mountain

and embark on your winter journey

seeking pure water in a venerable shell.

Maybe we can tip-toe into a forgotten corner

and spin the strings of the three fates

to reveal the very first snowflake

that fell from the sky.

Maybe we can excavate the gears of gravity

and search for the scraps of a dusty pendulum

that expands in an empty room

to form particles of light.