MEDITATION FOR THE SILENCE OF MORNING

I wake myself imagining the shape
of the day and where I will find

myself within it.Language does not
often live in that shape,

but sentences survive somehow
through the islands of dark matter,

the negative space often more important
than the positive.

Imagine finding you look at the world
completely different upon waking one day

and not knowing if this version is permanent.
Anything can change, after all,

for how else would you find yourself
in this predicament or this opportunity,

depending on the frame? A single moment
can make loneliness seem frighteningly new.

We destroy the paths of rivers
to make room for the sea.