Love

Did someone leave my door ajar?
Or there is no door but what I make
by asking?

Light has left me messages, as questions
such as these, and I have nibbled.

This morning rather I gobble.
I take my cue from my dog
who seizes moments.

This morning I have eaten all the bait.
Hook line and sinker.

Where there are no doors, cracks forever are.

Wherever there are slippings
and mighty shifts
love is.

 

Breathing

I have awakened to a land called Hu.
I fling my senses in any direction and love sings.

Green and living I am
and with greening things
I am friend.

I cry out–not publicly, but demure,
concealed and voicing
to God.

How is that the air has become so crowded?
Spirit fills balloons as large as the sun.

I am not breathing this
to be.

All breathes and all sings
and this is where I am.