question of us

over and again i read

the poem you didn’t write

write yet keep sending

between it's unwritten lines

lushness of spring

fall’s transparency

evenness of pain

in summer’s full glow

in it i hear the wind

roam without direction

shaking early leaves

with uprooted years

feeding our path with snow

nowhere a shelter

except in waiting

for the poem

never to be written

never to be read

murmured on quiet lips

restless echoes of stirrings

unaccounted by strife

nowhere a question of us

speckless skies of laments

you stretch out your hand

palm open not to receive

relinquishing answers to

abide by the question

one left out in the wild

that mute unwanted prayer

for alms

you no longer wish

for in your heart

heart

you no longer wish

2016