COMPASS

 

This I discovered

from marking directions

 

After sunrise,

South straight ahead steadies me,

 

East with lowered upraised gaze

clears my mind

 

In the shade, a long ways away

West invites me

 

to speak

North, above and beyond,

 

opens the way

through…

 

Each direction has its purpose

and core

 

With the third turning,

West… tree shaded I speak

 

Full circle, I return, North

a home, not my own

 

No pencil in hand, to the blind screen

I submit. Beneath stillness, the rustling of thought

 

My saying done,

back through the directionless

 

center…

Turning East, I pray

 

May the sun clear the mind,

may the array

 

draw me in…

Turning inward and away,

 

I stand South,

in concert with the morning

 

I listen

The play of birdsong

 

wakes me. Settled

here… it’s the beat and rhythm,

 

the dance

within the sounding

 

that carries me on

W i t h i n the innermost circle,

 

another circle. The farthest point

within, arrays outwards

 

Trace the lines as they dissolve

Feel the dancers step

 

on the lips and eyes of every pore,

yours and m

 

i

n e

 

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