What is this I fall into?
My inner self has released into
an open space three inches at least,
aware but blank.
(I’m checking that, and it’s true.)

I’m newly aware of my things –
piano, tablecloth, fallow harps,
candles, figures,
still and radiant.

Radiant?  Inanimate, but not
dis-animate. I animate them.

Far from the temple,
far from fellow suppliants,
I would like to arrange a morning tray
of marigolds, gold leafed almonds,
coriander sprigs and blossoms.

What is this I fall into?
I’m like the 50th I Ching yarrow stick,
set aside to “witness” the goings on.
Set aside to observe,
I’m very pleased to fall in with
the oracle at work.

It’s not a big word talk
rather a place, a threshold,
where just arriving is
a big unfolding