I crossed a border recently
It was a conscious, careful crossing...

It feels like
my words are...

Sometimes the fog of numbness lifts for a minute
And I find myself hard up against the grief...

A piano made as pianos were back then,
Her body graceful Edwardian elegance...

Those grey years of angst,
Of treading water in a sea of tears...

Sounds repeated
empty of meaning...

Cicadas' thrumming
A golden net of sound...

In the dripping dark,
Deep, deep underground...

My dreams
are a mystery...

My gratitude for the eternal golden light of...
Flooding my lonely darknesses...

Unseen eternal radiance of purity,
Illuminating goodness, beauty and truth in all...

I thought I was there for them
I so much wanted to be there for them...