(11) Hush.
What we on Earth have named as silence
is the gentle hum of refrigerators
and laptop battery packs,
the subtle settling of houses at night
the traction of tires of passing traffic
the rustling of nocturnals in the underbrush
the padding repetition of the cat-bath
inhale whisking its way through cilia and nose-hairs
exhale eking through bronchial ribs
and blood pushing into crooked arteries
blood scrubbing itself in and out of capillary crevices
blood slipping insistently under eardrums
Though we whisper-shout within ourselves
the lie that we have found it,
It sits safely out of focus,
out of reach of stringent search,
among pure motives
and satisfaction,
and there it will remain.
The most beautiful music in Heaven
is silence.
(12) A Haiku for Sunday at 1:44am
Everybody knows
haikus are for the lazy.
Some care more than me.
(13) All I Wanted
Your eyes say
you have something precious to give,
keep speaking.
They reach toward me
like cupped hands,
eager but unimposing.
I reach into the pockets of my mind
and find
social lint.
My eyes say
It's all I have.
Yours smile and say
I don't believe you.
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