photos by Charity Blaine
A tension on a tightrope wire
fire flies in the night.
Fireworks
wire forks.
1
Lineages, ages, images of trees.
2
There is no sense in the sphere of no noise,
There is no sense in the sphere of no noise,
the center ubiquitous, edges unseen.
Only here in the paradox of kingdoms
are fools not beyond reproaching the king.
3
Your laughter lapses
impermanence is a jay
wind in wild grass is
where it cannot stay.
4
The fear that fuels the fire
fuels this burning truth.
5
The open air of suspension
ringing after the change
unchanged in the canyon
until in wakes; a frayed
ebbing into silences
roaming through the wind.
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