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June 26, 1998

daughter

Paradox of the
Waning and waxing,
Warm sea breathing.

My daughter swings back to me
Smiling.

Fists and flowers
Unfold and the pure are
Enraptured.

Wind trickles in.
Air bursts big
& eyes open.

Her grown hair, braided,
She runs.

Divine tree widening
hugs a horizon and
Coallesces

Confesses.
The flutter rumbles,
Trickles colors.

Wisps blows
Twists into the
Loud moths.

Her grey eyes
Startle clouds.

Passioned-wrapped
Knotted vines
Entwine.

Star hearts and
Pulsed double loves
Singing.

Taking talkers still still into motion,
she runs.

Tomorrow’s
Sunrising glow
Before.

Her barefeet,
parting the leaves.

June 25, 1998

(TSP again, in pencil)

(TSP again, in pencil; 25 June 1998)

What is permanent on this hesitant planet?
I am temporarily this then temporarily that.
Even the slow grass—breathing slowly—grows.
A deep inquiry, a melting stare
         belies a changing everywhere.

How something is one thing & also another
         indicates all things fall together.
A magic center permeates even
         indelible creatures—defines the nature of sky.
And infinitesimal me pontificates why
         one “I” never leaves me
         while one “I” says goodbye.