The Continuance

“…I cannot tell

if I hunger, or am hungered for.” – seon joon

How can I take this light in both
my hands this morning, this skein
of cool air that doesn’t sting;

how can I fill this mouth
that stumbled, parched,
from seeming oasis

to oasis through the years?
The canopy beads with heathered
sound: small, tufted bodies

call to each other through the trees.
And I imagine they are sure the notes
will fall on their intended ear,

certain the vines that screen
the other from view will lift
with the next wind. And so I face

the window where the light looks
kind: is there to be an accounting?
There are so many more questions

I have not found answers for—
But what could it do with me now,
that it hasn’t done before?

[LAG-two-sources date=”04 07 2013″ url1=”http://morningporch.com/2013/04/159123237/ Morning Porch ” title1=”Morning Porch” url2=”http://yeosi.wordpress.com/2013/04/02/devour/” title2=”thus: Devour”]