(from Within My Illusions)

the way we make wishes
by spreading the seeds
of a weed.

the way sunlight dances
on water like rain,
shimmers like fireflies
between blades of grass
that grow in the lake.
the blurred edge of land and water.

the way rocks appear black and barren
as they jut from the ocean
and the way flowers grow
on those lifeless stones
in tones of amethyst, jade, citrine.

the way charts can predict tides,
but not patterns of movement
as waves rebound off the shore
and one another.

the way salt in water can both soothe and sting.

the way my heart can hold a wellspring of grief
and also the feeling of being a bird in flight.

that it can go to the depths
and still find surprise and delight
in the sweet-tart nectar of a freshly-picked peach
as it drips down my chin, the tears
as they drip down my cheeks.

the way vulnerability can be powerful,
emptiness complete,
and darkness illuminating.

and the way that I and we
are one and not
the same.