the birds shift,
they are little constellations
forming then exploding,
then settling again, they are tied
to the trees, just like me.
they come to the pond,
"the pond of one"
where the fish
are sleeping, they
are somewhere deep.
dreaming of spring.
and the winter feels long,
but it is just beginning.
i am preparing for the long
night. i walk along a river
of ice, but i am all right.
a man with strong hands,
walks beside me and he
talks to me and he listens
to me talk,
he is a gentle force, quiet and
trying.
tonight he will be flying,
a world away, he races
toward the new year.
i hold back, and wait.
i will not run towards it.
i will not run from it.
i trace my steps
in reverent silence
along the
mariana, the barren
waste land, the garden
of eden.
we all are shifting, moving,
changing. a hole punched
through the day sky, a
peep hole into the dark, dark
night. a universe full and
glittering, littered with
black holes and sun light.
i tread in the fish stew,
my toes ever seeking
the stability of the bottom.
my tippy toes playing
hide and seek with survival.
but i am not one pulled
all the way under, my head
bobs above the waves,
my eyes dance with the moon.
i remember. i swim with the fish
but my head is with the stars.
"how do you make a good life?"
"you are good -
it is just this simple,
it is just this hard"
