Wednesday, January 06, 2010

What everything seeks

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White Silk


Owl’s query is over. Sun pours
out what everything seeks. I sit
between illumination and en-
lightenment to discover what all
of this is about. It’s this simple.

Dawn-pressed coyotes range
through the oaks, nip and chase
as the horizon pushes up what
sends them scumbling restward.
The day bends but is not broken.

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Hawk claims her acre of sky;
rabbit stays low with wary in
her eye. Soon shadows move
the day across this brief terrain.

No sign of night; no sign of rain.
California winter curled at her
warm breast as she mothers a
green land. There is white silk
on my lips from where I stand.

Joseph Gallo
January 6, 2010


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