Page 94 - Dark Matter Women Witnessing

to the isness of what is, what-

ever that is, probably is the

keenest ecstasy you can endure.

We were made for this:

a stuttering kind of worship

and they in turn were hatched for us.

IV

There is a rift in the nature of things

thinking cannot mend;

those who feel their way into whatever is

don’t see the problem

let it be nameless, without shape

or form or the dying breath of late

season carnations, whatever

is establishes itself

a hair’s breadth apart from us,

willing to be united

already having endowed us

with the capacity. Who wants

to be lonely? I have heard

the leaves whispering the

sermon and the mysteries

the smaller leaves not yet

staying on key, all

hoping we would

send out a tear or two

of recognition:

whatever is longs to be part

of whatever else might be,

every one of us sending

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