A Place for Yourself
You don't know why you've come here,
perched in the dark on the valley's rim
above the drone of village sounds.
You say, If I go back among people
someone inside me will drown.
So you remain, rainwater caught in the rocks.
Shapes, bare granite and trees
hoverout of eye's reach.
Clouds pull away in dark patches,
and with this new light
you can see everywhere in the pool.
And when you stop listening to your
eyes and ears, you feel the pool
as a pebble in your heart, pulling
all that is you awake; the coin,
turning as it falls into the well,
your place in the darkness.