We Are Full of Holes

Charles Wright, give me

a break.  There is no second


world to live in or

not.  Let that be our straw dog.

Everything passes–

being included.

Common sense, metaphysics,

whatever.  Music,

says Chuang Tzu, is

the breath of nature passing

over each thingy

thing.  We are full of

holes.  Our sound depends on how

open each hole is.


On the way here this

cold Sunday in March a wave

of silence broke o-

ver the church I pass

whenever the chorus fell

silent.  Wonderful.

I do not doubt faith.

It takes faith to raise one’s voice

in  praise in this world.

Unchurched I thank these

people;  like God they stand in

for others as other.

The Soul Is Involved

Not quite a hermit,

I sit with the golden youth

of this high-tech town

and sip their ciders.

I hide behind a thick book:

kenotic passing

of creative change–

I’d like to share that but don’t.

I feel my losses.

The soul is involved

with creative change but change

alone goes nowhere.

It Might Be Otherwise

Last year’s maple leaf

half-stuck in the gutter drain

flickers in the wind.

I slow down to look.

There’s no clear path to the one

God. Such clarity

as this March morning

grants the irreducibly


communicates by

its otherness the wonder

that we are at all.

My Neighbor’s Topiary

Do these words copy

in their reverberations


“the gift of the world

the undecided” (Burnside)?

Gratuitous is

the play of sunshine

in aspired topiary,

the original

safe in its reserve

from the artistic power

tools of my neighbor.

That Knowledge

We elderly rise

early, sit in the cafe

and wait patiently

for our drinks. The young

arrive, armed with smart laptops.

By then we’ll have had

our fill. Not so much

conversation– a few nods;

mostly we just watch

each other’s faces

for the blush of that knowledge

we share so freely.

State of the Union

The people’s tyrant

doubles the people’s hatred;

his will to power

the people’s triumph.

Easy to say, but something

has been lost in surd

self-circling. Recall

the silence through which the name-

less one reaches us.