In this quiet space
My heart opens.
Wind rocks the house;
Tap tapping branches
feel their way to the white of day.
I am relieved of thought;
hear nothing but this wind,
soughing like a restless child in sleep.
The sentinel radiator creaks into life.
I open the morning with my eyes;
turn on everything;
Turn my thoughts with the muscle of past.
Turn on me…
Nothing I think is true:
Second hand solutions
to life lived in the dark.
Yet I am guided by a light unseen