Split Vision

I see only half of the cloud
over the  hill -
the other half exists
somewhere else
other than this place

There are roads that join
the one passing my front gate -
I will not go on them -
my pack is down
I am content
to watch
half a cloud, know
the other half
exists somewhere else.

Over the hill:  the stones
I cannot see them
but I know they are there.

The heart of all things
waits.  The sun rises,
goes.

previous poem

next poem