The magical turning of a day
into another
has been done again
with no apparent difference
silence and darkness
followed by flickering light
and the imperceptible scream
of living
Edge of living
Startled by silence
Startled by the touch
of silence
under the cover
of night
listening for the voice
of now
Shadow
Today
I am a shadow
of myself
where did I go
Anger
Anger
does not bring out
the truth
anger brings out
the anger
Weather of the past
Wrinkles on the page
of morning
maybe the stain of words
or the echo of an old desire
can there be a clean sheet
at the start of day
we bring the weather of the past
in the shoulders of our eyes
it can be a load to pick up
if you ever put it down
daninmaya 