Thoughts on a Summer's Walk

As summer ripens

I ponder love:

white light, and the two souls,

their undulations spiraling the air,

giving over to silence. This they dare

without sustaining tension: their atoms speak,

the motes of dust turn, slowly.

This I would know.

As I walk, the corrupt leaves

huddle, torn, in curb and corner;

my footfalls sure, I follow

the canal, mostly dry now,

its trail of water like the remnants of faith.

Life throbs around me, much of it mindless, chaotic;

I hear the intake of my breath, jagged,

steaming back out; I know I live.

In this I place the years.

Above me, susurrations:

a tree speaks, small creatures shiver the branches.

The sun is thin, she shimmers grey,

Towards home I make my way

amidst tiny flowers.

Thoughts of hope like dandelions succor the hours.