Everything wants to be witnessed once
Just once
The hollowing trunk that fell like a watchtower reuniting with the ancient tribe of trees
The spiraling Spanish detail on the New York fire escapes lining Avenue B
The newborn fingers that move like tiny octopi in their search to understand gravity
The smashed Mexican vase and the mosaic it makes on the kitchen tiles
The frightening indecision I wake with at times
The veins of a fresh leaf curling to the sun
It all longs to be witnessed
Just once
And the question for you, my love
Remains the same
Will you move from the tired hooks inside your head
Pronounce them futile
Though lessons nonetheless
Turning attention now
To Life that changes moment to moment?
To that constant gift from the God of Silence
Who asks only that we look
And witness fresh at once
What will soon be over
And turn to memory like a swarm of sacred dust
Finally set free soaring into a Texas sky
As it gathers in triumph
Before dissolving from all sight

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