Sacred and ecstatic songs not bound by any one tradition as all contemplative poems are fingers pointing to the same moon. Go to end of page for a listing of archived poems.
8.02.2006
Mail
I open the day as if it were mail delivered second by second.
It is like that, these tastes in the stream of the divine, these songs the length of a breath.
Of course, they add up and we’re buried under mountains of miracles.
