Language at the threshold. Each poem a listening.
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You May Have Left the Candles Burning
Read poem →: You May Have Left the Candles BurningYou may have left the candles burning.
You slept under those steady flames.
Do you remember the last thought that
fizzled into the first image of dreams?
By the time you woke up,
All but smoke is dissolved.
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This Morning, You Looked
Read poem →: This Morning, You LookedThis morning, you looked
into the palm of your hand to see
if you could find the path that leads
out of the heart.
That weight of the world is ancient,
and centuries long.
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Can One Grasp at a Flowing Water
Read poem →: Can One Grasp at a Flowing WaterCan one grasp at a flowing water,
Or seek to bottle the wind?
Let this answer simmer for a while,
until it cracks open a pathless path.
Now, do you hear the “yes”?
It is without approximation:
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