I turn the thoughts and prayers of journals
written decades ago into these poems and
hope with more attention and accommodation
I do not wander off into the despair always
waiting at the end of the previous evening's talk.
The piece of learning I always hope for
comes from the awareness that toes
will always be stepped on even in the midst
of the dance where everyone knows
the next turn is to the middle.
I am reminded of the paradox of fire
where bringing life whirls in the midst
of the turning of what is alive to hopeful ashes.
A Thread You Follow 