for my dear friend, Rob Sacks, on his birthday
We seem to be alone but we are not.
Seem to be solid but we are more like sky than the sky itself.
All day long busy pouring water from one hand
into the other.
At end of day we get back to open air.
Stand listening to the wind
separating calls of dog, coyote, wild turkey, formations of geese
from the sound the sky makes going red.
“the laughter rolling like a hoop out of His mouth and into mine…” Anne Sexton
There is laughter shuddering in the blood!
There is joy that can shatter bone, freeing lightening from its marrow!
When the sky is painted with desire
All swans with broken wings come healed from the river.
Streets fill with women wearing earrings that are hoops of fire
And the happiness prepared for us finds us falling under weight
Urgent with wind whipped fig trees, urgent with million wings of sparrows,
All the golden, spangled streets are ready
For those who believe and also for those who doubt
That we are not too old to dance.