in progress


I am thankful for this loosening quiet –

your silence slackening the ties.

Often shackled by a fear of loss

in love, I might yet open toward a growing –


the possibilities of a learning, as in youth –

less about the being something,

than, profoundly, just to be –

that which relaxes and allows


like a cow caught in rough weather,

or warm engagements with a child,

with the blossom, & make-believe.

Empowered when our symbol’d systems –


confused by what is happening –

begin to signify that loss,

a form of death, ensures the safety

of our risks.  That harm and haven


are our home – the same as truth:

what’s loved is lost,

and thus we come to love.

Wisdom undoing opposites


in terms of life.

I am ridiculed by youth –

it’s how I know that many lessons

come unlearned,


that “completeness…

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"A word is a bridge thrown between myself and an other - a territory shared by both" - M. Bakhtin

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