I Passed Through a Wall
I passed through a wall, my light eyes gave me that power. In the dark I was passed from one to another. When I could see again, my eyes were still light but my clothing was black. I remained shrouded even in spring, even under a bright sky. Over the years, my eyes darkened. I no longer have the power to pass.
Second Generation
What is the half-life of ecstasy? Of trauma? The second generation do not believe they are visible saints, because they cannot know for certain that they are saved by God. How could they? They weren’t present when every calculation, every accident, every success and every failure resulted in survival.
Yet survival, too, ends. That is also God’s will evidently.
And so the second generation, which did not witness God’s hand in survival, finally see God’s hand in death. And then cannot but see God everywhere.
In a City of Millions
Accustomed to the forest floor, I carry pine needles and sprinkle them in my path. I can walk through the city for hours. Trees in various states of decay tell me their troubles. They are grateful for the audience.
At the playground I walk in the sand.
With a bag of grain, I am a mill. The birds flock behind, marking my steps with wings.