March 5, 2010


Straight as an arrow, the shaft
of sunlight running from up there to here
or a moonbeam alone, unwitnessed
and demarcating the night

taut, the sound of the bow
drawn back, tensed and waiting
for release, that faint hum and
slight quiver in the breeze

like a bolt out of the blue —
this moment of certainty in the
cold morning, one twanging with
truth and luminous possibility.

Stand on the sun's bright trail
this day and get ready to dance —
to do a little shining
that is all your very own.